Harry Potter and The Fortress Of Woe
by Mishra
Summary: Post HbP: Voldemort taps into ancient, dark powers to gain world dominance, planning to turn his opponents into mindless puppets. Harry could stop him, but the best assassin of the Wizarding World has a say in the matter as well… HG RHr
1. Prologue: The Ultimate Plan

**Harry Potter and The Fortress of Woe**

**Summary:** Post HbP: While Harry is about to start his search for the Horcruxes, Voldemort manages to lay his hands on some ancient knowledge, granting him the ability to mentally enslave the whole British population. It is up to Harry to stop the hideous plan, but Voldemort has decided to enrol the help of the best assassin of the Wizarding World. And then there is the matter of the feisty redhead, who is determined not to let Harry slip away without her…

**Notes:** rated for language, violence and graphic sex, you have been warned! Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I don't, nor will I ever, own Harry Potter, nor will I make any money with this story.

**Prologue: The ultimate plan**

Tom Riddle was sitting in an old, but very comfortable armchair, crafted out of ebony. The flickering twilight of the dungeon, he was sitting in, made it hard to read the scroll he was holding in his spidery, pale hands, but he liked it anyway. The room was roughly thirty feet long, fifteen feet broad and ten feet high. Bookshelves lined the walls left and right of his throne, endless rows of knowledge only broken by a fireplace in the middle of them. Most of the room was occupied by an enormous table, crafted out of the same wood as his chair, which was currently littered with all kind of maps, spellbooks and vials, instruments he used to wage his war. A thick, blood red carpet covered the entire room, obviously having been customized for this dungeon sometime back in the past. Sooting torches were placed high up the walls, blackening the ceiling and creating more darkness than light. It was not easy to read the foreign, tiny, black runes on the parchment, he was holding, but he could live with that.

He did not understand a word anyway. Sighing, Riddle, or Voldemort as he liked to call himself, rolled the ancient document up again and delicately placed it on the floor next to his throne. He summoned himself a goblet of red, rich wine and brought it to his thin, bloodless lips. Sipping the alcoholic beverage, he allowed himself a few moments of fury. Everything had been going so well! He had been ecstatic as one of his subordinates had been able to organize this ancient piece of information! If the rumours are true, then this old scroll was the key to ultimate power, granting him dominance over the world. But as soon as he had unrolled the old parchment, his elation had faded away.

He had known then, that he was not able to read the runes, but he had hoped that somewhere in these ancient, dark books a dictionary was to be found. That's why he had returned to this house, which had belonged to two of his old followers, who had died in the first war, in the first place! His hopes had been disappointed and the countless hours he had been spending in this room in vain. His only hope was that someone of his Death Eaters stumbled over the key to this mystery, but he considered this highly unlikely, considering the average intelligence of his goons. Someone like Snape or Ocean would be up for that job, but he needed them here and could not send them away hunting for something that probably even did not exist in the first place. Even the fortunate demise of Dumbledore could not raise his mood at the moment.

To make matters even worse, he could not punish anyone for these unfortunate events. It was no one's fault exactly, except for the author of this bloody scroll and he had been dead for more than nine hundred years. Of course, he could grab on of his men and torture him until his own anger had withered away, but knowing that the victim had not done anything wrong thoroughly killed the mood. And Draco Malfoy was still on the run, making him and his Death Eaters appear completely incompetent. Riddle would love to get his hands on the young Malfoy, he really enjoyed hearing someone begging for death.

Just as he was about to lose himself in this pleasant fantasy, the large double door at the other end of the room burst open, revealing a young, panting Death Eater, with a large book clamped under his arm. Voldemort furrowed his brows in vexation, hoping for his young goon that it was good news.

"What do you want?" he hissed after the Death Eater had crossed the room and was kneeling in front of him.

"M-My lord." replied the young man in a quivering voice. "I found this one in a very old bookstore in Edinbrough. I believe that it is a dictionary, translating the runes of the ancient scrolls into Jamuraan' ones. I assumed that you wanted to acquire it."

"Give it to me." commanded Voldemort, grabbing the book, bound in worn leather and started to flip through the pages. After a few minutes he spoke up again. "Excellent, you may go, make sure to leave your name at the door; you may be handy in the future."

He did not bother watching the young hotshot walking out of the room; he had already started to translate, writing his translation down on a freshly summoned role of parchment. Voldemort lost count of time, engrossed in his work. It was hard to translate these ancient runes and more often than he would have liked he was forced to guess the meaning of a sentence, but he his excitement grew with every rune he deciphered. Looks like the rumours are true! If he could get his hands on this power, then his goal of world domination would be nearly achieved! The whole world population would be his mindless puppets, dancing at his every whim! A wonderful fantasy!

Finally, after almost two hours of hard work, Voldemort was finished. He quickly scanned the page again, contemplating his next steps. Then he summoned a new piece of parchment and scribbled down a few parts of the translated scroll.

"Get me Snape and Ocean." he said quietly to the empty room. Even though no one was inside, he knew that the two Death Eaters standing guard at the door, heard him as clearly as though he were standing right next to them.

Two minutes later, the double doors leading to the room burst open and two men in black cloaks strode into the room. One had greasy, long, black hair and a very hooked nose, while the other one had a handsome, aristocratic face, ice blue eyes and short cropped black hair.

Both of them walked to Voldemort's throne and knelt down in front of him.

"Rise." commanded Riddle curtly. "Ocean, Snape, I have instructions for you."

"We are at your service, my lord." returned David Ocean, while rising from the floor. Voldemort could not stop even a trace of fear in his servant's eyes and he had always liked this fearlessness. It was a very nice exception of the usual.

"And I expect nothing less, Ocean." hissed Voldemort. "Now listen closely, I don't want to explain this twice. Severus you will have to brew me this complicated potion and I expect you to do it right on your first attempt."

Snape took the piece of parchment out of his master's hand and quickly scanned it, before speaking up.

"Master, you are aware of the fact that this potion will take a long time to be completed?"

"I know Severus, I know. How long do you think it will be before we could use it?"

"Around Halloween, I think." replied the greasy-haired Death Eater. "It will take sometime to gather the required ingredients, some of them are very hard to come by. Also the potion will have to simmer for two months."

"Then you should start immediately. But don't leave yet, I have something to discuss with both of you."

"Ocean." said Riddle. "You are going to lead the hunt for Draco Malfoy. I want this useless whelp getting caught in at the latest a month. It will be very enjoyable to torture the life out of him…"

Voldemort was lost in thought for a moment, before speaking up again.

"It is of utmost important that we will succeed in summoning the fortress. Dumbledore is dead so the only dangerous enemy we still have is Harry Potter. I want him out of the picture and I want it to be done soon. Any suggestions?"

"There is a very proficient assassin called the _nightshade_." answered Ocean after contemplating for a few heartbeats. "If the rumours are true then he has been in the profession for almost three hundred years and never failed so far."

"Excellent." replied Voldemort, a predatory grin forming on his face. "Severus, I want you to contact this _nightshade_. I want Harry Potter captured and brought to me!"


	2. Afterthoughts

_He is dead._

This short, ugly thought vibrated over and over in Harry's mind, driving all other notions away. Nothing was as it had been just a month ago. Harry knew that change was the only constant, but why did things always change to worse? Dumbledore was dead, slain by a man he had foolishly trusted. Reality had hit Harry like a ton of bricks, as he had seen his mentor falling down the astronomy tower, his blue eyes broken and lifeless. In this moment he had realized that he was all on his own, that safety was just a nice lie we told ourselves each day until we bloody believed it ourselves. Of course he had known before that he would need to fight Voldemort one day, but he had never guessed that he would have to do it without Dumbledore's guidance. He was not ready for god's sake!

He was nowhere near being ready! He just was a nearly seventeen year old schoolboy, who had been incredibly lucky in the past. Sure, he had done some remarkable things in the past, okay, so he had been able to summon a corporeal Patronus at the age of thirteen, but this had not done him any good. He was a powerless as a newborn babe, unable to prevent any of the horrible events he had been forced to witness. Sirius had died in front of his very eyes, as had Dumbledore and Cedric. If he really was this Chosen One, shouldn't he be able to blast the average Death Eater into oblivion in a heartbeat? Shouldn't he receive a special training? Sifting through Voldemort's past with Dumbledore in the past school year had been interesting, alright, but it had not done him any good.

Granted, he had learned about the Horcruxes and had a vague idea what kind of items Voldemort would choose as soul containers, but he still did not know where to continue his search for the wicked magical devices. And even if he would stumble over one of them, Harry was sure that he would never been able to bypass the mass of protective enchantments Voldemort had surely cast on them.

Sighing, Harry stood up from the chair he was sitting on and started pacing in the room. He was standing in his dark bedroom, only illuminated by the full moon shining outside. The room was a mess. Spellbooks and scrolls of parchments were littered on the floor, along with some issues of the_ Daily Prophet_ and a stack of letters. Documents of a month filled with useless research.

Harry's gaze fell on a stack of schoolbooks, right next to his bed, and his temper flared. Useless things! He had spent most of the month reading them, searching for anything giving him an upper edge in a confrontation with Voldemort. Of course he had not found anything; the knowledge he was searching for was hardly going to be ever published in any schoolbooks. Frustrated, Harry started to stuff the books back in his school trunk. However, he stopped as a certain book landed in his hands. His potion book. Potions. Snape!

White hot rage erupted in Harry, incinerating his whole being. With a howl of rage, he threw the book as hard as he could against the next wall, strangely satisfied as it hit the concrete wall with a dull thud. Snape had been a traitor all along! He had deceived Dumbledore, who had been to naïve to listen to the doubts about the ex-death Eaters loyalty Harry and others uttered. Snape had done what Draco Malfoy could not; he had murdered the helpless headmaster in cold blood. And Harry had been forced to watch everything! To make matters even worse, Harry had been powerless to capture the traitor in the aftermath of Dumbledore's death. Every spell he had thrown at the greasy haired potion master had been blocked or even reflected! Snape had even dared to taunt him with his inability to deal damage! Harry had lost count how often he had killed Snape in his dreams during the last month, but his rage was all but diminished. He had vowed to himself on the night of his mentor's death that he would avenge Dumbledore and send Snape and Voldemort straight to hell, even if it was the last thing he did.

But how on earth was he going to do this without any place to start? He either needed someone to train him or more potent books and both he was very unlikely to get. The Order had remained out of touch for the last month and the letters he traded with Ron and Hermione were uninformative at best. Of course they would not write anything about their planned quest in them, because of the possibility of the messages getting intercepted, but Harry could read between the lines that both of his friends still were eager to start their search. He kept playing along, but knew in his heart that they were only fooling themselves. They did not have any clue who on earth R.A.B. was and it was unlikely that they would stumble over the solution. If R.A.B. had been one especially important follower of Voldemort, then they would have already found out everything about him during the research they had done back at Hogwarts. Harry was sure that Hermione was doing some more inquiry one her own, like he was, but he doubted that she had been more lucky than him.

He had frequently considered sneaking into Diagon Alley to get his hands on more defence books and maybe to find something out about R.A.B. in an archive of older _Daily Prophet_ issues. However he had always dismissed this plan as soon as it had popped into his head. He knew that the house was still watched by the Order and he doubted that his guard would allow him to go shopping in the current situation of turmoil. Unwilling to upset his few allies, Harry had grudgingly remained put, waiting for the adults to sort it out like a good boy.

Only it did not appear as though the adults had any control in the moment. Dumbledore's death had greatly shaken the Order, causing its efficiency to drop dramatically. Many of the Order's informants and other contacts had been answering directly to the headmaster and only few were willing to continue their service under the changed circumstances. The Ministry was trying to keep the populated parts of Wizarding Britain save, mostly concentration on Diagon Alley and the Ministry. However, no one was left to defend the people in their own homes and consequently murders of Muggleborns and their families, as well as of blood traitors were much too common these days. Often, houses were founded completely deserted, littered with evidence of a fight, but devoid of any bodies or inhabitants. Apparently Voldemort wanted these people captured before he killed him, but Harry and the rest of the Wizarding World could only guess, what for the dark wizard would need this great amount of captives.

Finally growing tired with his pacing, Harry sank down on his bed and ran a hand through his messy hair. It had grown too small for him this summer, a bed Dudley had used when he had been eleven not nearly long enough for his six feet frame. At this moment one of Uncle Vernon's rumbling snores shook the house. At least the Dursleys were ignoring Harry this summer, clearly remembering Moody's threat from last year. Maybe they were also intimidated by the thought of Harry coming of age this summer. Whatever the reasons were, Harry was totally fine with it. He doubted that he would be able to endure the constant quarrelling with his unloved relatives on top of the trouble he had in his world.

Sighing, he laid down on the mattress. He briefly contemplated going to sleep, but decided against it. His nights were everything but restful. Instead of granting him refreshing, dreamless sleep, his subconscious constantly plagued him with images of Dumbledore plunging to his death, of Sirius falling through the veil and of Cedric staring at him with cold, lifeless eyes. However the worst was when the scenes started to change. Suddenly, he saw Ron getting hit straight into the chest by Snape's killing curse, watched Hermione flying through the veil and saw Ginny falling of the Astronomy tower. Ginny. Damn, he had managed not to think of her today.

Harry tried for a moment to fight down the thoughts of his ex-girlfriend, but it was completely impossible. It was the old story of the man, who had been promised to receive a pot of gold, if he did not think of a white horse for a day. Consequently the man had started to think of a white horse as soon as he had heard the promise. Ginny had been Harry's white horse since he had broken things off with her after Dumbledore's funeral. He knew that it had been the right thing, or at least that was what he told himself night after night. He just was unable to forget her.

Who could anyone forget her smile, which was mischievous, kind and seductive at the same time? Who could anyone forget the way her fiery hair glittered in the firelight? Was it possible not to realize how beautiful she was when you passed her in the corridors? Especially when she was angry about something and pouting in this delicious way, which makes you want to crush your lips against hers and … Stop it, you sound like some mushy romance novel writer! But it was too late. The image of Ginny's full red lips had taken Harry down a road he had not at all wanted to go. His mind was travelling a mile a minute, down into dark fantasies, which would cause Ron to skin him alive if he ever found out about them.

Sighing, Harry rose again from his bed, invigorated by the strange cocktail of fear, loneliness, depression, frustration, desperation, longing and arousal he was feeling. He knew he was very close to finally cracking up; the strain the war was putting on him taking his toll. He really needed to get out of this blasted house and to do something useful. Harry's gaze travelled to the window and settled on the full moon outside. A shiver ran down his spine. Full moon. Remus Lupin was a werewolf right now, possibly running undercover with his darker kin listening to Voldemort's beck and call. A frightening thought.

Truth be told, Harry was terrified at the thought of coming face to face with Voldemort again. The dark wizard had caused Dumbledore's death and the headmaster had been the only person Harry had really considered unbreakable. No matter in how much trouble he had been, Dumbledore had always been there either to get him out at the right moment or to pick up the pieces after everything was done. He had been Harry's guarding angel, his helper in the most desperate situations. And now he was gone and Harry was all alone in a hostile world.

It scared him out of his mind, but it also fuelled his determination to make Voldemort pay for everything he had done. His mentor's death had only been the finally straw; he had meant it when he had told Dumbledore that he wanted to be the one finishing Riddle. The dark wizared had destroyed Harry's every chance of a normal life, in a normal, caring family. He had taken away from him the only link to his parents; a person Harry had considered a mixture between brother and father. He had made Harry watch his mentor tumbling down the astronomy tower and he had made Harry terminate his relationship with Ginny, the best thing that had ever happened to him in his short life.

He had meant every word of it, when he had told Ginny that the brief two weeks they had been together had been like something out of someone else's life. What he had not told her was why he thought so. It had been too good to be true. In his life there almost always was a catch when something great happened to him. Sirius offers him to live with him, but before this has any chance of happening the tables turn and Harry finds himself in a worse situation than before, knowing what could have been, but unable to change anything. Yeah, he had been forced to play the old "what if" game much too often in his life and he should have know that his relationship was doomed from the start. He did not know if it was fate or just a life load of bad luck, but it annoyed him to no end.

Frustration and anger hit him so hard that he had to use every ounce of his will power not to bash in the window in front of him, just to have an outlet. He knew that he would only feel worse afterwards and maybe would get into serious trouble with the Dursleys. He really needed to get out of this bloody house! Well, he would be seventeen tomorrow and would have kept his promise to stay at the Dursleys as long as possible. He would leave for the burrow as soon as he had turned seventeen, unless he received more detailed information from Ron or the Order. Harry knew that Bill's and Fleur's wedding was going to be soon and therefore he strongly suspected that the Order's momentary operation centre was the slightly ruinous building in Ottery St. Catchpole. The wedding was going to be another baptism of fire. Ginny had not written a single letter to him in the summer and he had the distinct impression that she was up for something. Knowing how stubborn this girl could be, he had made a mental note to expect everything during his stay at the Weasley's.

He told himself that he would fix things between Ginny and him as soon as everything was over. When everything was over, how often had he thought this thought during the summer? He had lost count. When he had lain awake at night, in no hurry to meet his countless nightmares once again, Harry had carefully planned his life after Voldemorts defeat. He had designed thousands of variations, but one thing was constant in all of them. He would always be happily married with Ginny and would have lots of kids. God, he was such a cliché, but he could not help it. Well, probably he would not have to worry about becoming or being a cliché. Maybe his life would end as a splattered mass of gore on the ground, with Voldemort triumphing face sneering over him.

Before Harry could follow these dark thoughts any further, a white shadow flew through his open window. Hedwig! Harry walked over to his loyal snow owl, and discovered that she was carrying a letter in her beak. He supplied her with some owl treats, before taking the letter and ripping it open, recognizing Ron's messy scrawl immediately.

_Hey mate,_

_I thought I would give you your birthday present a bit earlier. Tonks gave Hedwig the letter, as she was guarding you today, just to make sure that it did not get intercepted. Anyway, Bill's and Fleur's wedding will be in five days and mum is going absolutely berserk. Prepare to hear nothing else than wedding talk all day long and to be ridiculously busy with the whole thing. She's going around the twist if you ask me. _

_Still, you are heartily invited to join us in this madness. There is a Portkey enclosed in this envelop, which is going to bring you right to the burrow. It will be activated as soon as you turn seventeen. Don't try to Apparate unless you want to get blasted in a thousand pieces! Oh, and we still have to talk about you-know-what, we should have a plan before pulling this through. Hermione is here and she's driving me nuts as usual._

_Hoping to see you soon_

_Ron_

Harry turned the envelope upside down and watched an old scrap of parchment flying out of it. He carefully hid the Portkey under the loose board in the floor and finally went to sleep; hoping despite hope that this summer could get any better.


	3. A Matter of Willpower

Harry's gaze travelled once again through the room he had used for almost six years. All his belongings were neatly stacked in a corner, ready to get shrunken and stuffed into his trunk as soon as midnight had arrived and he was finally allowed to do magic during the summer holidays. Leaving Privet Drive felt strange. It wasn't that he had any nostalgic feelings about the place or any intention to stay a moment longer than absolutely necessary, but he had the feeling that this moment was the threshold to a completely new episode in his life. He left behind the last bit of his crippled youth and mutilated innocence, walking away to wage a war he might not survive. It was one of the moments in life, when you simply had to contemplate the nature of life itself for a few moments. Normally you emerge from this thinking process as smart as you were before, but at least you could claim to have thought about it once in your life.

Shaking his head at his own thoughts, Harry checked the loose floorboard one last time, fearing to have forgotten anything important beneath it. The little space under it was empty as it had been the last three times he had checked. Sighing, Harry looked at his watch, like he had done a thousand times on this day, and discovered that he still had five minutes before leaving Privet Drive for good. Giving up trying to find something to occupy himself, Harry sat down on his bed and allowed his thoughts to flow freely.

Everything was prepared; he had sent Hedwig to the Weasleys three hours ago, she was bound to have arrived by now. Everything was ready and he only had to shrink his stuff and to cram it magically into his trunk. Then he would grab his Firebolt and the trunk and would use the Oortkey. Easy. The only thing he was not absolutely sure about being ready was himself. Going to the Burrow would mean seeing the Weasleys. Seeing the Weasleys would mean seeing Ginny and seeing Ginny would be awkward at best. She had taken it quite well, back in June, but Harry was not sure how her attitude towards their break up was now. Ginny was at least as impulsive as he was and their two tempers would be more than able to produce a spectacular argument. The last thing he wanted was to row with Ginny about matters of the heart in front of her whole family. No, he was going to be polite, but distant. He would treat Ginny as though she was just his best friend's sister and a good friend and not his pseudo ex-girlfriend, which he still cared deeply about. All he had to do was to avoid being alone with her and everything would be all right. Ginny would not dare to start an argument in front of her brothers, wouldn't she?

Yeah, of course she would. Damn. Why did everything have to be so bloody complicated? Why could not Ginny simple accept that it was too dangerous to be in a relationship with him? Okay, so he had no real proof that she was planning something, but he had his gut instinct and he trusted his intuition. Why could she simply let it be? Couldn't she see how painful this break up was for him? Why did she have to turn the knife just because she wanted something she could not have? At least, she could not have it now. And why on earth could not he stop thinking about her, fantasying about her even? Well, at least he had learned something about life this evening: sometimes love simply sucks.

The alarm on his clock peeped and he quickly whipped out his wand, shrunk his stuff and put it into his trunk. Then he enchanted it to be as light as a feather and took the trunk in one hand, clamped his broomstick between his torso and his arm and grabbed the Portkey, not bothering to say goodbye to the Dursleys. There was no love lost between them and Harry no intention to fruitlessly try to change it.

A swirl of colours later, Harry landed roughly in front of the old, slightly warped house, he adored so much. He could feel the air crackling with magic and he strongly suspected that this was caused by the massive amount of protective wards placed around the building. Well, he could think about this later, there was no reason to stay out here in the night. Harry gingerly approached the front door and gently knocked, unwilling to wake anyone. He was anxious, but did his best to appear calm. He felt the familiar blank mask, which he had worn so often in his life, slip over his face, making him appear completely unbothered. In this moment the door opened and Harry found himself face to face with the Weasley he had both longed and feared to see again: Ginny Weasley.

"Hello Harry." said Ginny casually, as though she was only welcoming her brother's best mate and a friend of the family rather than her pseudo ex-boyfriend. "It's good to see you, but we expected you to be here directly at midnight. What kept you?"

"Just some thinking about… life in general and change in particular." replied Harry, cursing his bad luck. Fortunately he had been able to correct his last statement just in time. He nearly had admitted having thought about her. He used the moment of silence, to take a good look at her. Damn, she was beautiful. Her curly, red hair was gathered in loose ponytail, a few strands refusing to get captured and framing her face. Harry had to fight down the impulse to tuck them behind her ear, like he had had used to do during their relationship.

Despite the lateness - or earliness - of the day, she was fully dressed, wearing washed-out and slightly ripped jeans and a black tee shirt. A pretty tight shirt as well, which rendered it nearly impossible not to stare at her breast. It was distracting to say the least.

"Sounds like a very interesting topic to think about." she returned, had face inscrutable, but a ghost of smile playing in her eyes. "Any revelations you want to share?"

"No, nothing." answered Harry in a rush, after having needed some time to understand what she was talking about. He realized that she had most likely caught him staring at her. Mentally kicking himself for his carelessness, he decided to end this dangerous encounter as soon as possible.

"And it's good to see you Ginny. May I come in? It's getting chilly out here."

"Of course, come right in." she replied, stepping aside, allowing him to enter. Harry picked up his broomstick and trunk again and walked inside, glad at being of the hook for a while.

"Where am I supposed to bring my stuff?" he asked the redhead. "In Ron's room, as usual?"

"Yep." she replied, closing the door behind him. "You will have to bunk with my oaf of a brother as usual. Maybe Fred, George and Charley will join you; we are a bit low on room, due to the mass of wedding guests."

"Ah the wedding, Ron said your mom was going berserk and that I should prepare myself for a hard time."

"Yeah, mum is a bit enthusiastic about the whole thing." answered Ginny, laughing. "She is just happy and a bit surprised that one of her sons is getting finally married. Especially Bill, he always appeared to be the eternal bachelor type. Apparently he cares deeply for Fleur, or he would not sacrifice his freedom to the "holy hell", as he liked to call it in his earlier days."

"Fleur?" asked Harry, genuinely surprised. Ginny had never liked Fleur; he himself suspected that she was a bit jealous, because Fleur always had a stunning impact on the straight male population. "What happened to Phlegm?"

"Okay, okay, I was wrong about her." replied Ginny, blushing. "When she saw Bill with the fresh scars in the hospital wing, I was more than a bit surprised to hear her pledge her undying love to him and I have treated her well since then, even though I should hate her for making me a bridesmaid."

"Is it that bad?"

"You have no idea. Mum is using me as a overgrown puppet, checking which way my hair looks best to the dress, which flowers to weave in my locks, which shoes to wear and so bloody on." she said, darkly. "It's driving me out of my mind; I would rather be degnoming the garden with the other ones. I mean, it's pointless anyway, everyone knows that I am going to look plain next to _Gabrielle_."

"Not to me." said Harry, before he could stop himself.

One of Ginny's fiery eyebrows shot up, but she remained silent and just mustered him with a strange expression on her face.

"There is some supper left in the kitchen if you are hungry and Ron is waiting for you upstairs. But before you go there, please follow me, we have something to talk about." she replied finally, after having let the silence between them linger for a few heartbeats.

"Err, sure." replied Harry, not at all comfortable with the thought of talking with Ginny alone in her room, but without any ideas how to avoid it without being rude. Just because he broke off with her, he did not have to be a jerk. He would remain nice, but distant and she was definitely not going to talk him out of his decision. It just was a matter of willpower and he had enough of this, right? After all he had been able to free himself when placed under the Imperius Curse, how hard could it be to say "no" to his ex-girlfriend? Yeah, he really had nothing to worry about, but why was he so damned nervous about this?

"Brilliant." answered Ginny, smiling a dazzling smile. "Take your stuff with you and let's go."

Harry barely had the time to pick up his things, before she had already started to climb the stairs leading to her room. Damn, her bum looks good in this pair of jeans! Shaking his head to chase away his treacherous thoughts, Harry slowly followed her, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Much too soon, they found themselves standing at the door leading to Ginny's room.

"It is a bit cramped, because Hermione is bunking with me." she said apologetically, before pushing open the door.

Harry found himself standing in a surprisingly big room. Apparently being the single girl in a family had its merits sometime. A bed and a mattress took most of the space, together with a writing desk and a big bookshelf. It was filled with an almost obscene amount of schoolbooks, which very likely belonged to Hermione and a large amount of thin paperback novels, most of them Muggle. Harry caught one of the titles in the corner of his eyes: "storm of passion". He stored Ginny's fable for sappy novels in his mind, just in case he ever needed a present for her and did not have any better idea. A huge poster of the Hollyhead Harphies framed one of the walls painted in pale yellow and Harry could see a few roles of parchment and a quill lying on the writing desk, most likely homework assignments. All in all the room was astonishingly neat and Harry found it hard to believe that Ginny was such a tidy person. His experiences rather suggested the contrary. Either it was Hermione's doing, or Ginny had cleaned, because she knew he would be visiting. If she had, the question remained why she had considered it necessary.

Harry sat down on the only chair in the room, after setting down his trunk and his broom, while Ginny preferred her bed. She was gnawing at her bottom lip, a sign that she was thinking hard about something. The silence stretched between them. One minute…two minutes…three minutes. Finally Harry could not bear it anymore.

"Well, what exactly did you want to talk about?" he asked, more nonchalance in his voice than he had thought he possessed.

"Huh?" she replied, resurfacing from her contemplation.

"You asked me to come up here, because you wanted to talk about something." said Harry, rolling his eyes. He was not in the mood to play games. "Well, here I am."

"Oh, oh right." replied Ginny, her eyes widening briefly, before becoming inscrutable again. "Well, I wanted to talk about us, but I thought that was almost blindingly obvious."

"Uh, okay." answered Harry, not at all happy with the topic and still wanting to evade a conversation about their break up as long as possible. Preferably for ever. "Well, that's a rather big topic, what exactly do you want to talk about? After all we have known each other for almost six years."

Harry knew he was stalling, but he did not have any better ideas at the moment. He briefly could see anger sparkling in Ginny's eyes; apparently she was not at all amused at his attempts. Well, if she really wanted to talk about this painful topic, then he would make her work for it.

"Don't play dumb, Harry." she replied sharply. "You are not a particular good liar and you were never ever able to fool me. You know exactly what I am talking about!"

"I do, don't I?"

"You are behaving absolutely childish!" said Ginny, angrily stomping her foot on the ground. "You can't stall this conversation forever; you will have to talk to me sooner or later!"

"And what if I don't want to talk about this topic at all?" replied Harry calmly, stung by her words, but still searching for a way to evade this conversation.

"This is not about what you want Harry." returned Ginny scathingly. "This is about both of us and the last time I checked, I had the right to have a say in matters of my heart!"

"Fine, have it your way then." answered Harry, finally accepting that there was no way out of this mess, not involving stunning the fiery redhead on the other side of the room. "There is nothing to talk about anyway."

"Their bloody hell is something to talk about! How about my feelings and my opinion on the stupid reason you used to break things off with me?"

"What the heck has gotten into you?" asked Harry, irritation evident in his voice. "A month ago you told me you understood why I had to do this. What on earth happened to make you change your mind? Nothing is different today. The fresh wounds are barely healed and Voldemort is probably even stronger then a month ago. I really don't see why we should get back together now."

Suddenly Ginny was standing in front of the chair he was sitting in, her chocolate coloured eyes sparkling with anger and frustration. She had moved so fast that he had not recognized her until she was already towering above him.

"Now you will listen to me, you overly noble prat!" she hissed angrily. "I never ever accepted your decision to leave me, you hear me? I told you that I understood your reasons and I still do, but that does not mean that I have to like or accept it. I briefly considered telling you this as soon as you broke off with me, but I cared too bloody much, to start an argument with you directly after Dumbledore's funeral. What the hell do you expect? You should have seen how lost and hurt you looked and I just did not have the heart to cause you even more grief. So I decided to let you from the hook for now and talk to you as soon as you arrived back on the burrow."

Harry tried to interrupt her, but she simply ignored him, raising her voice a bit more to drone out his protesting words.

"Yes, I know that Tom is after you, imagine that after seeing you getting hunted by him for six years in a row, I got the message. And yes, I know that it may endanger me to be your girlfriend, but you know what? I don't bloody care! I am involved in this war no matter how things are between me and you! I am a Weasley and we are considered one of the worst Bloodtraitors who ever walked the earth. To make matters worse all of my brothers, except for Percy and Ron, and my parents are members of the Order, making me an even more attractive target. Why do you think there are wards placed around the burrow throughout the whole year? They are not just in place because you are here, but to protect all of us from the hostile forces out there! The world does not revolve around you, you can try to influence it, but you can't change it! Just because we are not dating, Death Eaters won't leave me alone if they ever got my hands on me!"

"Don't even think about that!" said Harry, while she catching her breath. Just the thought of Ginny in the hands of Death Eaters like Lucius Malfoy, caused a shudder to travel down his spine. Still her words had struck a nerve. Was he overestimating himself and his ability to influence Voldemort and his goons? Would his break up make any difference in the end?

"Shut it Harry." replied Ginny tiredly, sinking back to on the bed. "You know I am right. Tom's world is black and white. There are allies and foes and nothing in between. Oh and there is you of course, but that's something different. I am his foe and nothing you or I could do and would consider doing is going to change that. Period. He would come after me, even if we weren't dating, just because he knew that we were once. That is pretty common knowledge, thanks to the fact that you snogged my in front of the whole Gryffindor tower and he would try to get me just to hurt you. So are you going to remain stubborn and will throw the best two weeks in our lives away or will you finally admit that you were wrong?"

God, how could a girl be so smart and so naïve at the same time? She had said herself that there were special cases on Voldemort's list of enemies and when would it finally penetrate her thick skull that she was close to earning herself a special place on this list? Harry was determined to never let that happen.

"No way Ginny." he said, pouring every ounce of determination in his voice, even though a part of him was extremely pleased about her fighting for their relationship. Damn, she knew how to make a man feel special. "You said yourself that I have earned myself a special spot right on top of Voldemort's agenda. If he has any reason to believe that we are still a couple, then he is going to come after you with all force, just to lure me out of my hiding place. I was extremely lucky in the past encounters and I highly doubt that my luck will continue much longer or that you are going to be so lucky, if you meet him again. Maybe I am underestimating his cruelness and overestimating my influence on him, but if something happened to you while we were together I would never stop blaming myself for it. I doubt that I would be able to live on."

"Therefore here is what we are going to do. You are going to spread the rumour that I left you for another woman. If Hogwarts reopens, it will be fairly easy to do so, if not, we will have to contact the press. You will tell everyone that you don't have any contact with me at all anymore and that you never want to see me again. This is going to need a lot of acting skill, but I am confident that you can do this. Then you will stay out of the fighting and the two of us will get out of this alive. What do you say?"

"No." she replied simply.

"No?" Harry cried in disbelief. Women could be so bloody stubborn sometimes. "What's the matter now?"

"I am tired of getting treated like a child Harry." she returned, determination flaring in her beautiful eyes. "I am going to help you winning this war and if I have to travel over the world to find you. Dumbledore himself said that love was your greatest strength and it would be foolish at best to push this away, just because you are being noble! Also no one would buy this story and did not you tell me once that Voldemort could always tell if someone was lying? So are not going to get rid of me that easily. And I know that you miss me, I can see it in your eyes! And I know that you are hurting inside and that you are depressed. Let me help you Harry, before it's too late. Please!"

For a sliver of a heartbeat, Harry was overwhelmed by the love he could see shining in her eyes and he was so close to simply agree to her and to return to were they had been a month ago. But then his mind caught up with his heart and he angrily crushed his weakness. He was not going to give in! He knew he was right and she was not going to talk her into something he did not want to do at all. She was being irrational and he had to protect her from herself.

"No, Ginny, I am not going to chance my mind." he said quietly, finality evident in his tone. "I stand to my decision and you don't have to like it. I don't like it either, but that's life."

"Well, I am not going to change my mind either." she replied equally determined.

Uncomfortable silence stretched between them.

"This is stupid!" exclaimed Ginny finally, after nearly five minutes had ticked by. "Both of us are not going to give in, but we are both unhappy with the current situation. You want me to stop nagging you and I want to get the two of us back together. Well, I think I have an idea how to solve this problem."

"Really?" asked Harry, suspicion creeping in his voice. It was so un-Ginny to admit defeat and whatever suggestion she was going to make was likely just a tool to make him change his mind. However he did not have any better ideas and did not fancy having to spend his time at the burrow arguing with Ginny over their doomed relationship. "Alright, I am all ears."

"It's actually pretty simple." she replied, standing up from her bed and walking over to the chair Harry was sitting in. "You will simply have to convince me that you don't want to get back together with me at the moment, that you would never even consider it with the war going on. If you can convince me then I will leave you alone and be a good girl waiting for you to come back. If you can't, then I will bug you until you see things my way. Deal?"

Harry first impulse was to tell her to forget it, but after thinking about it for a moment he warmed to the idea. After all how hard could it be to convince her? Sure, he would have to lie a bit, because a part of him wanted to throw caution in the wind and snog her senseless right there. But he could do this! He was not going to fail this one!

"You have got yourself a deal." he replied, his voice hoarse.

"Well, here I am Harry." she said, looking down on him, chocolate eyes locking with jade ones. "Convince me."

Just as Harry opened his mouth, he lost all of his courage. Damn, he could not do it. He could not lie to her, she would never believe him. Her beautiful eyes were piercing directly into his soul and he was not even feeling uncomfortable under her scrutinizing gaze. Maybe she was right, maybe he really should not push her away. After all Dumbledore himself had claimed love to be his greatest strength. Would not it be prudent to act after his old mentor's recommendation? Yeah, he was going too…

BAM!

The door leading to Ginny's room flew open with a crash, hitting the wall behind it with a dull thud. In the doorframe stood Ron Weasley, as tall and speckled with as much freckles as ever. A huge smile was plastered on his face, as he spotted his best mate and the thought that he might interrupt something intimate never occurred to him.

"Harry mate, what's keeping you? I wanted to play a bit of chess with you before going to bed. We have got so many _things_ to discuss, you know?"

Under normal circumstances Harry would be astonished at Ron trying to subtly imply something, but a moment all he wanted was to get out of this room. Deciding to ponder this change in his best friend's behaviour later, he quickly stood up and grabbed his things.

"You are right Ron; it's late already and tomorrow is probably going to get very tiring with all the wedding preparations. See you in the morning, Gin."

Harry all but bolted from the room, thanking fate for this little piece of luck.


	4. Wedding Affairs

Barely a minute after his narrow escape from Ginny, Harry found himself entering Ron's bedroom with his best mate. The two of them had climbed the stairs in silence, both not foolish enough to discuss their planned journey to destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes in the Weasley's stairway. The burrow's walls had ears, especially if Fred and George and their famous Extendable Ears were present. Still, Harry wondered if that was really all Ron wanted so badly to talk about. As far as he knew, Ron and Hermione were still dancing around each other, but a lot closer to accept their mutual feelings than a year before. Maybe Ron was going to ask him for advice regarding their bushy haired friend. Not that Harry was comfortable with this thought, not at all! Discussing one's best friend love life was okay, but discussing your pseudo ex-girlfriends brother's love life, who happens to have a crush on your female best friend, was like walking through a minefield. One false word and Harry would probably find himself once again between his two best mates and he really had no intention to make this experience yet again.

Suddenly he remembered that Ron did not even know that he had broken up with Ginny. In fact he doubted that anyone despite the two of them knew. He was not even sure if the Weasley's knew about their relationship in the first place. It was well known in Hogwarts and Harry suspected that maybe one or two articles had been written about it in _Witch Weekly_ or other shoddy magazines, but that did not necessarily mean that the other members of Harry's pseudo family knew. Ron and Ginny were the only Weasleys left at Hogwarts and Harry doubted that both of them were overly eager to tell the rest of the family. Ginny for obvious reasons and Ron because he was too afraid of Ginny's possible reaction to act without her permission. And he was right to be scared of his baby sister, Harry himself considered her intimidating and awesome if she was really angry. And damned sexy, as well! Oh, she was going to be livid about Harry's narrow escape! Ron should better prepare himself for some rough days! Oh, and he himself should probably do so as well.

Shaking his head to chase away all thoughts of Ginny and their messed up relationship, Harry followed Ron into his bright orange room. It looked exactly as it had when he had last seen it. Every inch of the room was covered with items connected to the _Chudley Cannons_. Ron really owned everything ever produced and associated with his favourite Quidditch team, starting at books like _Flying with the Cannons_ and ending with the posters covering the walls of this very room. He even owned Cannons bedclothes and boxers! Judging by the constant mass of orange on the room Ron also had no intention to abandon his little obsession in the near future. Well, whatever floats his boat.

Two beds were standing in the room and Hermione was sitting on one of them, her nose buried in a book as usual. She looked up, as she heard the door closing behind Harry and Ron and quickly stood up and walked over to Harry, capturing in a bone crushing hug.

"Harry." she gushed, a few seconds later, after having released him. "How are you? Are you sleeping alright? Is Dumbledore's death still bothering you? Did you do any research during your holidays? Do you have any ideas were we could start looking for the next Horcrux? I have been working the whole summer and …"

"Go easy on me Hermione." said Harry, letting himself fall on Ron's bed. Suddenly he realized how tired he was, the argument with Ginny combined with his insomnia had really worn him out. To make matters worse he felt a headache starting to build, as his tired brain tried to digest Hermione's gush of information. "One question at a time. Am I alright? I guess I am as well as can be expected for someone who had witnessed his mentor getting murdered, while being unable to prevent it. Nothing I have not seen or felt before, it doesn't make things more pleasant or dulls the pain, but at least you know that you will be alright sometime in the future."

"Do you want to talk about…" Hermione started to ask.

"No." interrupted Harry. "Talking is certainly not going to help here. I am not blaming myself for this death Hermione. Dumbledore himself rendered me unable to help him; I know I couldn't have done anything to change this evening's event. I know who to blame! The responsibility for Dumbledore's death lies with Snape and Voldemort. Draco was only a tool, a pretty useless one as well, and while he certainly is not innocent, we should not worry about him at the moment. Probably he is already in Voldemort's clutches, paying the price for his failure."

Both Ron and Hermione shuddered at Harry's cold words. His emerald eyes were almost black with hatred and his hands, which were curled into fists, were shaking slightly. They realized that the calm and controlled façade Harry had erected was only a mask he was wearing to hide his anger, loathing and pain. They should have known. After all Harry had worn this very mask a lot in the past two years, starting after the Third Task in his fourth year. His two best friends could only guess why he was hiding beneath it, but they knew that Harry hated to get pitied and tended to associate talking about problems with it. Also Hermione suspected that Harry felt destined to be a hold in these dark times for his allies and was unwilling to further burden them with his problems. Whatever it was, Harry could be as stubborn as a mule when asked to open up and only very rarely allowed his guard to drop. However Hermione considered it to be a progress that he had admitted not to be perfectly fine, like he had always claimed to be in the past. It was no big step, but at least he had made one at all. Of course she was not happy about him channelling all his pain into fury at Voldemort and Snape, but at least this was better than blaming oneself.

"Anyway, we have more important things to talk about than my pain." continued Harry, his face grim. "I am sure that both you had as much success as myself searching for any hint leading to the remaining Horcruxes."

"Yeah, we found absolutely nothing." replied Ron. "All those painful hours of researching, useless! It ruined my holidays combined with this blasted wedding."

"Ron!" said Hermione, scandalized. "Even though we have not yet discovered anything about the Horcruxes doesn't mean that the research was useless and that we won't find something soon. And it's your brother's wedding, you should show a bit more enthusiasm."

Just as Ron opened his mouth to reply, Harry interrupted the brewing argument.

"Enough!" he bellowed, not at all in the mood for another row between his two best friends. His suspicion that they still were oblivious to the other's feelings was growing stronger and the throbbing in his head increased. "I am tired and not at all in the mood for you two having a go at each other! If you want to row, do it somewhere else and we will talk in the morning!"

Both of his friends stopped immediately, chastised.

"Sorry mate." said Ron sheepishly. "I guess that everyone is a bit short tempered at the moment."

"It's okay." replied Harry tiredly. "I guess I will finally have to accept the fact that you two will never ever stop rowing. Anyway, I want to talk with you about what we planned to do after the wedding."

"I agree, we should plan this thoroughly." said Hermione, immediately warming to the subject. "I have thought quite a lot about it and …"

"Wait a moment." interrupted Harry, cutting her off with a quick hand movement. Then he whipped out his wand and placed a Silencing and an Imperturbable Charm on the door. "There are some noisy people living here and I don't want to take any chances."

"Anyway, what I was saying…" started Hermione.

"Sorry Hermione, but you should listen to me first." interrupted Harry once again, the firmness in his voice leaving no room to argue. "I have been thinking a lot about this quest in the last month and the more I think about it the more I doubt its sense."

"What?" cried Ron. "But it was your idea in the first place!"

"That's right Harry." agreed Hermione. "You said that…"

"I know what I said." snapped Harry. "But I was angry when I said this, much angrier than I am now. And I had a lot of spare time to think about last year and about what happened due to what reason. And I don't like the conclusion of my contemplation at all."

"And what exactly is your conclusion?" asked Hermione, slowly getting hacked off at Harry's behaviour. "Care to enlighten us?"

"It's quite simply." replied Harry, ignoring his best female friend's irritation. "We are not nearly powerful enough to bypass the protection Voldemort has most likely placed around the remaining Horcruxes. Therefore the idea is rubbish; we would only get ourselves killed. Later, when we are properly trained, we may take another go, but at the moment getting more powerful is clearly the most important thing. The fact that we don't have any clue where to start our search makes this decision even easier."

"But Harry, I thought it was so important to destroy the Horcruxes." said Ron, confusion evident on his face. "Do you really think we can take our time?"

"I agree." piqued up Hermione. "It is only a matter of time until Voldemort discovers that some of his Horcruxes are gone and then he will raise the protection on his remaining ones. We really should hurry and use his ignorance for our advantage."

"I know, I know and both of you are right." replied Harry and started to pace in the room. "Yes it _is_ important to destroy the Horcruxes, otherwise I won't be able to kill Voldemort in the end. And yes, we should use every advantage we can get and it _is_ likely that Voldemort will discover that some of his Horcruxes are missing. But this still doesn't change anything. Don't you remember what I told you about the cave? Without Dumbledore I never would have gotten out of there alive! Heck, I would not even have made it inside, because I would never have been able to find the way to open the magical barrier! I really don't want to think about how the other Horcruxes are protected; Dumbledore's withered hand is proof enough that we are dealing with the darkest of magic!"

"So, basically you are afraid of doing it." said Ron, his voice sounding both disappointed and accusing at the same. "I never would have thought that you would ever be too afraid to do the right thing."

"Of course I am afraid, and you should be too!" cried Harry, irritation at his best friend's lack of understanding growing in him. "We are nothing but three seventh years without any important special abilities! Why do you think we would be able to fool the most powerful dark wizard of a century? All Voldemort has to do is to place two Death Eaters as guards and we are doomed. I fought Snape last year; I know what I am talking about! He showed me how weak I really am and how foolish it was to ever consider myself a worth opponent for Voldemort or his goons."

"So you are just going to give up and hand the world to You-Know-Who on a silver platter?" said Ron angrily. "I can't believe you Harry!"

"No, certainly not!" shouted Harry, furiously smacking his left palm with his right hand. "I am going to kill Voldemort for everything he has done to me and to this world and if I have to travel the world to find these bloody Horcruxes! But I am not stupid enough to do it with six years of school as my only weapon. As soon as the wedding is over, I am going to search for someone who is going to train me. And if this means to work with the Order, then so be it! I need to learn Occlumency, wordless magic and especially some fighting techniques. Maybe I could ask Tonks or Remus for some assistance, they are not going to ask too many questions..."

"So, you are going to keep the information about the Horcruxes to yourself in each case?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah." returned Harry, nodding. "Dumbledore must have had his reasons not to entrust the Order with this sensitive information and I will continue this strategy. The longer we can keep Voldemort in the dark, the better."

"And how high do you think our chances are to find and to destroy the Horcurx on our own?" continued Hermione.

"Less than zero." said Harry, sighing. "Even if we somehow would be able to find all of them, we still would have no idea how to destroy them. And this kind of information is not going to be printed in any schoolbook. We are going to need more sources of information and this is probably going to mean the restricted section in Hogwarts or the library in Grimmauld Place. And both of these places we are not going to be able to visit without the Order's help."

"Looks like you are right, mate." replied Ron, scratching a few stubbles on his chin. "We are going to stay put then. But let's hope that we can somehow get stronger or this whole thing will come down."

"Alright, I agree." said Hermione, after the two boys had been looking at her few half a minute. "But I am not happy with this and I think it could be a grave error. However I don't have any better ideas either."

"Alright that's settled then." said Harry happily, sinking down on one of the beds.

"Why do you want to wait till the wedding is over Harry?" asked Ron. "Should not we start as soon as possible?"

"We probably should, but I want your brother to have a somehow normal wedding and not to have to listen to your mum complaining about us getting involved in the war. We should fight to live not live to fight. That's a big difference and everyone can do with a bit of normalcy at the moment."

Ron and Hermione pondered Harry's last statement in silence and a few minutes after that the three friends said goodnight to each other and went to sleep.

- - - - -

The days before the wedding passed in a blur. Harry could not remember every seeing the burrow so full and busy, even though Percy still lived in his London flat. Like Ron had predicted, Mrs. Weasley had taken charge over the wedding and her utmost devotion caused all other inhabitants of the house to get include as well. Harry and all the other present Weasley boys except for the groom-to-be were busy with organizing the decorations. The wedding was scheduled to be held in the burrow's backyard and therefore the garden had to perfect. Of course this meant that Fred, George, Harry, Ron and Charley had to spend countless hours degnoming, mowing the grass, cutting the rose bushes, etc. Every time they thought everything complete, Mrs. Weasley would come up with a new idea how to decorate, usually causing them to undo a large part of their work, only to redo it again in a new way. It was save to say that all Weasley involved complained to no end about having to complete these tasks and most of them were angry at Bill as well, who in their opinion only had to amuse himself with his veela wife, which was completely unfair to boot. Especially Ron, Fred and George complained about this, wisely out of earshot of Mrs. Weasley or their eldest brother and Harry strongly suspected them to be a bit jealous. He knew that Ron had always been affected by Fleur's beauty and he knew that the twins had a fable for beautiful women as well. Charley himself seemed saddened that Bill was getting married at all; apparently still viewing matrimony as Bill had earlier in his life. Harry himself was quite happy with the current arrangement.

Working in the garden meant not having to spent time alone with Ginny and he was both disappointed and relieved about this. Disappointed about not seeing her nearly enough as he wanted to, but relieved that he did not have to endure her nagging him about their relationship. He knew that he was not off the hook, not having finished their little bargain, but he was grateful for every second he could get to rebuild his almost crumbled defence. He had been so close to throwing caution away and to letting her win. Much too close, this was never going to happen again! He was going to make sure that he did not have to see her hurt in this bloody war and if staying away was the price he had to pay for doing it then so be it!

Ginny herself was spending most of her days with Mrs. Weasley and Fleur, who were busy trying to find out how she looked best as a bridesmaid. Often Hermione joined them, claiming to support Ginny in this desperate situation, but Harry strongly suspected that Hermione enjoyed getting girly sometimes. Still, he was a bit worried that Ginny had told Hermione of their break up, she had these strange knowing looks in the last two days. He was not at all comfortable with the thought of Hermione wanting to fix his love life. It would be uncomfortable, because Hermione would be talking with her best male friend – assuming that she considered Ron more than a friend – about her female best friend and also a bit hypocritical, due to her and Ron still dancing around each other. Their constant bickering was making Harry mad and he vowed to do something, if things were not getting better after the wedding was over.

Mrs. Weasley had organized new dress robes for him and Ron, getting them from Diagon Alley one morning without telling them. Harry was disappointed, because he wanted to get his hands on more defence books, but resigned to the fact that he did not have any other option than to go there sometime later this summer, probably accompanied by the Order. He had seen several Order members in the burrow during the last days, apparently reinforcing the wards and preparing for eventual attacks. Harry had briefly considered speaking to Tonks and asking her to train him, but she had always been around much too many other members for him to do so. He did not want the Order to ask any more questions regarding what he and Dumbledore had been doing last year. He vowed to ask Remus for help as soon as he had to opportunity to do so.

Finally the long awaited day of the wedding arrived.

Harry started the day at an ungodly hour, waking up at five am due to one of his countless nightmares. He did not know what he had dreamed about in the first place, having forgotten it as soon as he had jerked awake, but he knew that he would never be able to go back asleep with all the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Cursing softly under his breath, he got out of bed without waking the still sleeping Ron. Looking at his watch, he realized that he had four hours to kill before the ceremony would start. Sighing, he grabbed some of his normal clothes and headed to the bathroom, he could still change into his dressrobes later.

An almost scalding shower later, Harry dressed and walked downstairs to prepare himself some breakfast. He was more than surprised to find a cheerful Mrs. Weasley already rummaging around in the kitchen, whistling some joyful tune, he recognized as a love song of the _Weird Sisters_.

"Harry dear, you are up early." she said as soon as she saw him. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, just bad dreams as usual." replied Harry, trying to sound casual to prevent her from fussing too much about him.

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips, deciding not to comment on Harry's insomnia. "Well, breakfast will be at about eight, so you still have three hours left, but you can grab some toast if you are hungry already."

Feeling a sudden need for solitude, Harry quickly grabbed a piece of toast with butter and strawberry jam, before heading outside into the garden. He sat down below an old oak, which stood in the middle of the lawn and had been climbed countless times during the last twenty years, and started to munch his toast, enjoying the still cool morning air ruffling gently through his hair. The sun had risen only shortly ago and he could still here the birds singing, praising the raise of a new day. Harry considered their song strangely comforting. The world appeared pure and peaceful and it seemed impossible that anything could destroy the magic of the moment. Lying down on the ground, his gaze lazily travelled up one of the burrow's wall, finally coming to rest at a certain window. The window leading to Ginny's bedroom. Damn! The peace he had enjoyed for a moment was gone, replaced with his conflicting feeling about his girlfriend.

Harry growled in frustration and tried to convince himself that it had been the right decision to push her away, like he had done countless times during the last few days. It had been easy, because he only had to convince himself. Their different tasks had kept Ginny and him mostly apart and she had not been foolish enough to corner him in front of her family, yet. Still he had a bad feeling about tonight. As soon as the wedding was over, Ginny was surely going to approach him once again, wanting to finish their so-called deal. It was going to be hard avoiding her. Well, at least it was unlikely that she would talk about this topic in public, which would leave him off the hook as long as the wedding was going.

Truth be told, he still did not know if he would be able to convince Ginny to stay away from him. Heck, he was not even sure if he still wanted to convince her. A battle between two even matched opponents occurred in his head: his desire to protect her versus his hunger and longing for her. Harry lost himself in his thoughts and only was jerked out of his reverie as Mrs. Weasley called him, telling him that breakfast was ready.

- - - - -

Harry felt uncomfortable standing in the hot sun in his much too warm dressrobes. It was eleven o'clock and the ceremony was in full swing, having started approximately an hour ago. He was not paying any attention to it at all, his gaze and thoughts fixed on the gorgeous redhead serving as a bride maid. His mind had been wiped blank as soon as he had first seen her in her pale gold robes, her fiery hair framing her face in elaborate curls. She was definitely the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and even the thought of pushing her away seemed ridiculous at the moment. His mind was swimming with images of Ginny; memories and fantasies blending to form a world dedicated solely to the two of them. And some parts of this world were definitely not meant to be ever exposed to one of her overprotective brothers. Harry allowed himself to get lost in these pleasant thoughts and was startled when clapping erupted around him.

He blinked and suddenly realized that Bill was passionately kissing Fleur, the Ministry official leading the ceremony standing beside them and clapping his books shut. Harry quickly lost himself in the stream of well-wishers, grateful not to have an excuse to stare at Ginny any longer. The day was definitely going better.

- - - - -

How very mistaken he was. After the wedding itself was over, the feast started. Mrs. Weasley had outdone herself, but Harry was much too distracted to even realize what he was eating, yet alone tasting it. Due to some cruel coincidence, Ginny was sitting directly across of him and the mysterious way she was smiling at him during the meal did nothing to calm his anxious nerves. The bad feeling he had had about this day had returned and increased tenfold. He wondered what actually could go wrong, but failed to find any answer.

After the feast, the dancing started. Harry watched dozens of pairs stepping unto the dance floor, but only two really mattered to him. Hermione, after looking expectantly at Ron for a full minute, rose and started to dance with Charley Weasley. Ginny followed her swiftly and danced with one of Fleur's cousins, Jean. White hot jealousy burned in Harry as he watched the girl, he still thought of as his, dancing with a man, who was neither her brother nor her father. However he knew that he was hardly in the position to do anything against it, he was supposed to have ended things with Ginny after all. He was sure that she had planned this carefully to rile him up and damn her, it was working!

Instead of carefully planning and executing Jean's violent murder, Harry focused his attention on his best mate, who was currently busy staring daggers at Charley and Hermione. Finally growing tired with his two best friends dancing around each other, especially in these troubled times, Harry decided to take matters in his own hand.

"She's only trying to make you jealous, Ron." he told his redheaded best friend. "Go after her, she wants you, not Charley, nor anyone else."

"Are you sure?" asked Ron, a faint glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. "It certainly does not look like it at the moment."

"Trust me." answered Harry. "If it does not work, feel free to beat the crap out of me."

"Thanks, mate, I really appreciate it." returned Ron, rising from the table. "Things alright with Ginny and you?"

"Just peachy." replied Harry dryly, casting a glance at his still dancing pseudo ex-girlfriend, who seemed to be having the time of the life. Sighing, he took a deep gulp of the white wine, which had been served during lunch. He had the feeling that he was going to need it later that day.

- - - - -

At the same time, at another place:

_The Falling Noose_ was not a pub anyone faint of heart would ever consider visiting if he had any chance to avoid it. Located in one of London's poorest outskirts and heavily protected by magical wards to keep Muggles and unwanted guests away, it was a safe haven for everyone not wanting to encounter anyone even remotely connected with the law. Usually it was so crowded with every type of criminal and dark creatures the Wizarding World had to offer and no Auror would be foolish enough to enter it without with at least thirty colleagues to back him up. Of course this amount of shady people in a small bar caused the atmosphere to bristle with violence. A murder a week was not uncommon for _The Falling Noose_ and was largely tolerated by the patrons, as long as the furniture did not suffer too much.

The pub itself was crafted mainly out of ebony, black tables on black floor, between black walls, blood red tablecloths and tapestries adding a bit of colour. The lanterns illuminating the place were enchanted to provide light matching the tablecloths and furthermore increased the pub's dark atmosphere. In a corner of this very pub Serverus Snape was sitting, hidden beneath his black cloak, sipping wine out of a goblet crafted out of bone. He was drumming his fingers impatiently his table's dark wood, obviously waiting for something or someone.

Another ten minutes passed, before Snape was jerked out of his impassive state by another man, covered completely in a black hooded cloak sat down across of him. The only thing visible on him were his eyes, two unnaturally glowing white slits, devoid of any emotion.

"You are late." snapped Snape as the soon as the stranger had settled down.

"My costumers are always content, despite my tendency to be late." replied the other man, his voice as cold as the wind in a December night. "I highly doubt that you would understand this though; good assassins are hard to come by, as you demonstrated once again in your pathetic way of killing Albus Dumbledore."

"That's not what this meeting is about Sandro. I don't care if you are the _Nightshade_, you should better watch your tongue."

"Oh, it definitely is." returned Sandro calmly, ignoring Snape's threat. "Tell me why I should get into business with a man, who has a fifty thousand galleons bounty on his head. Your and your master's views are of no interest to me. I could care less who rules this country, I will be needed anyway. However taking a side is always a risk, so tell me why I should get involved."

"How about half a million galleons? Would that be enough to motivate you to start working for the Dark Lord?" asked Snape, smirking.

"Well, that depends on the job." returned the _Nightshade_. "But I think this should be sufficient. What does Voldemort want me to do?"

Snape glared at the assassin for using his master's name, but answered nevertheless. "The Dark Lord wants you to capture Harry Potter."

Snape had expected the assassin to refuse the offer, after all few wizards would be willing to hand the so called Chosen One to the Dark Lord and even fewer would try to capture Potter, due to all the guards and magical wards shrouding the boy. Sandro, however, did not miss a beat and appeared completely unimpressed.

"Yeah, I can do this." replied the assassin. "The payment is adequate. I will hand the boy over to you as unharmed as possible."

"Outstanding." said Snape. "When will you deliver him to us?"

"Hm, let's see…" replied Sandro, summoning a book bound in black leather and started flipping through it. "Around Christmas, I think. I am horribly busy at the moment."

"That's not nearly fast enough!" snarled Snape furiously.

"Well, then find some other assassin to do it." replied Sandro. "But I highly doubt that you will find one."

"… Fine then, get on with it." said Snape grudgingly after having pondered the situation for a moment. His master would not be pleased, but he did not have any idea how to improve the situation.

"Excellent, send me an owl with the detail, will you?" replied Sandro cheerfully. "Well, I have got to go. See you later, Snape."

With these words, he rose from the table, leaving the pub, before Snape had any chance to protest.


	5. Twists of Fate

a/n: This chapter has strong sexual context, you have been warned!

Harry's senses slowly started to reengage and his sleep fogged brain sluggishly returned to work. The first thing he realized was that he was lying on his back in bed, with no memory of going to sleep. The second thing he realized was the throbbing headache he had. His skull felt as though it was getting split apart and Harry could not help but to groan in pain. For a moment he thought Voldemort was trying to intrude his mind once again, but the fact that not his scar, but his entire head was aching caused him to dismiss this theory quickly. He opened his eyes, wanting to get out of bed and fetching himself a headache potion out of Mrs. Weasley medicine chest, only to find the world both blurry and spinning like mad. Feeling his stomach revolting, he quickly closed his eyes again and waited for the nausea to go away. After a minute or two, he decided to make another attempt. Keeping his eyes closed, he shifted his position, so that one of his feet touched the floor. While doing so, he brushed against something warm and soft, which felt like bare skin. Yanking his eyes open, Harry was surprised to find the spinning gone. His head was still throbbing like mad, but at least he did not have to restrain himself from throwing up anymore. However, what he discovered next nearly caused him to puke anyway.

Ginny Weasley was lying next to him, her beautiful form only partly covered by the blanket. Harry could see enough to be absolutely sure that no scrap of clothing was veiling her body and he was more than surprised to discover that he was not wearing any pyjamas as well! The room smelt of sweat and Harry discovered that his and Ginny's clothing were stacked neatly next to the bed.

Oh god, no! Suddenly Harry started to remember last evening's events.

- - - - -

He had gone for a walk shortly after the dancing started, being unable to bear seeing Ginny with another man any longer. He had slipped away unnoticed and walked to the pond at the other end of the Burrow's garden. Hidden from view by a thick tree line, he laid down on the ground, pondering the injustice of the world, cursing himself for letting Ginny go and for getting so riled up about her dancing with some else at the same time. He did not know how much time passed while he was sunken in his dark thoughts, but he guessed that it had been several hours. Finally having grown tired with his solitude, he went back to the celebration, wanting to find out how things were going between Ron and Hermione.

Halfway on his way back, he saw Fred, George and Charley sitting on the grass, shielded from getting seen by the wedding guests by some rose bushes. They were laughing merrily about something and Harry could see several bottles lying on the ground in front of them. Wanting to find out what they were up to, he walked over to them, his first mistake.

"Hey guys, what are you doing?" asked Harry, as soon as he was standing next to them. "Where's Ron?"

"Ickle Ronnikins is busy snogging his girlfriend." slurred Fred – or was it George? "And we are properly celebrating our brother's wedding. Wanna join us?"

He picked up one of the bottles lying on the floor and gave it to Harry. It was Ogden's Old Firewhiskey, which explained the glassy eyes of the three brothers and their very good mood. Harry's instinct told him to turn the offer down; it was barely three o'clock in the afternoon and he did not have any experience with strong drinks. But then he realized that that it would be hours before the wedding was over; hours which he would either have to spend alone, for Ron and Hermione was too busy with themselves, glowering at Ginny and Jean, or getting nagged by his pseudo ex-girlfriend. Suddenly the idea of getting drunk was much more inviting.

"Okay, I'm in." he said and that had been his second mistake.

The three Weasleys were delighted to have another drinking buddy and after half an hour, Harry was at least as drunk as they were. Still, he was really having fun for the first time in at least a month. He could not remember what they had talked about, but he knew that every topic had been hilarious. Everything could have been just fine, but after almost two hours, an unforeseeable event changed the whole situation.

Ginny discovered them and after having tried to get them to stop drinking at first, had been challenged into a drinking contest by one of the twins. Ginny, famous for being a hothead, agreed and soon she had joined Harry in his intoxicated state. He did not remember who won the contest, but it did not matter anyway. Fred, George and Charley left soon after it was over to congratulate Bill and to mingle with the other guests, leaving Harry and Ginny alone. They had talked and joked for hours, all awkwardness gone in their drunken state, night slowly falling between them. Around midnight, they decided to go to bed and found the house dark and quiet. They walked up to Ginny's room and prepared to say goodnight to each other.

Harry did not know who made the first move, but suddenly their lips were crushed together, their hands roaming to touch any scrap of bare flesh they could find. Ginny roughly bit Harry's lip as his left hand cupped her arse and he opened his mouth obediently. Ginny's tongue slipped inside and started to dance with his own for the first time in more than a month. Passion crackled between them and what little was left of Harry's plan to push her away crumbled within seconds.

Suddenly they found themselves standing in Ginny's room rather than in front of the door. Harry could not remember who of them had opened it, but truth be told, he could care less at the moment. He barely had time to register that Hermione was not in the room, a fact which the tiny still working part of his brain considered interesting indeed. His contemplation was short lived, because Ginny used exactly this moment to wrap her legs around his waist, applying delicious pressure on his engorged cock. Both of her hands grabbed his neck and she further deepened the kiss tasting every bit of his hot mouth. She had always loved his taste: orange and cinnamon, today mingled with a definite bit of Firewhiskey.

Her bold move rendered it difficult for Harry to keep his balance and he only managed two shaky steps before falling down. Fortunately they had been standing close enough to Ginny's bed to land on the soft mattress, their lips never losing contact. Unfazed, her hands unattached themselves from his neck and started to tuck futility at his robes, attempting to pull them off.

"Damned things." she muttered, after having abandoned Harry's neck to trail wet kisses along his jaw line.

"Use…wand…" was all Harry managed to gasp before she started sucking at his sensitive pulse point, turning the rest of his statement in a garbled mass of groans and curses. Suddenly Ginny remembered a spell her dorm mates had talked about once. One of her hands found Harry's wand in one of his robe's pockets and she stopped sucking his neck, ignoring his groan of protest, to mutter the incantation under her breath.

Every scrap of their clothing disappeared only to reappear neatly folded next to the bed. The feeling of hot skin on hot skin caused both of them to freeze for a few heartbeats. Their eyes travelled over the other's body, drinking in every contour and burning them in their memories. After a few seconds their eyes met, brown and green both nearly black with lust. The moment stretched for an immeasurable amount of time, before Harry broke its magic.

He attacked Ginny's mouth again with increased ferocity, while his hands started travelling down her nubile body. She moaned as he cupped her breast and gently squeezed her nipples between his ring and index fingers. Slightly surprised at how easily he managed to make her moan despite his inexperience, Harry decided to try something he had often seen in Ron's dirty magazines.

Abandoning her mouth, Harry kissed his way down to her left breast and started to lick and to suck the engorged and hardened peak. She tasted amazing and each lick increased his longing to find release. He was harder than he had been ever before, harder than he had even considered possible. Every nerve in his body was screaming at him to forcer her legs apart and to roughly pound into her until he was done. Even though it was more then tempting and despite the alcohol and hormones induced haze that had settled on his brain, he still wanted her to enjoy this moment as well. Therefore he restrained himself, not knowing how long he would be able to.

His right hand travelled down her body, passing her bellybutton and her triangle of fiery locks, before finding what it was searching for. His index and middle finger slipped into her very centre – Harry was both pleased and surprised to find her soaking wet – while his thumb searched for the sensitive nub slightly above her entrance. The effect was immediate. Ginny's hands roughly buried themselves in his hair and she started to buck underneath him, her moan of pleasure almost a scream. Harry started to move his fingers in and out, while circling his thumb and barely half a minute later, he felt her walls tightening around his fingers. Ginny came screaming his name.

Under normal circumstances Harry might have been worried about her waking up the house, but he was more than a bit preoccupied at the moment. His dick was throbbing like mad and he decided that it was about time to get some release himself. Grabbing his member, he positioned it directly in front of her entrance, looking at her face for any word or gesture of protest. None came.

Not needing any further encouragement Harry slipped completely into her, penetrating her hymen with a single thrust. He dimly noticed her face scrunching up in pain, but was way beyond caring. He kept on pumping, overwhelmed at how warm, wet and wonderfully tight she was. Harry barely managed ten thrusts before experiencing his most powerful orgasm ever. His whole body turned to jelly and for a moment he saw stars dancing in front of his eyes, as his brain was getting overrun by pleasure. Spent, he pulled out of her and fell asleep almost immediately.

- - - - -

Burying his face in his hands, Harry decided to get out of the room as quickly as possible. He badly needed time to think and a headache potion, before he would be able to face Ginny again. Also the risk of getting caught grew with each passing minute and encountering any member of the Weasley family while being in bed with Ginny was nothing Harry wanted ever to experience. He did not know what time it was, but soon or later the house would wake up. Better to leave now and to fix things later. If there was something left to fix.

Careful not to rouse his – whatever she was at the moment – Harry got out of bed, his gaze falling on her sleeping form. Damn it, she was beautiful! Her fiery locks were tousled from sleep and probably from him, making her appear both younger and sexier at the same time, if that was even possible. The amount of freckles dotting her skin was much smaller on her body than on her face, decreasing steadily until only one or two were left on her breasts, before disappearing completely. Harry could see her smiling in her sleep and for a moment he contemplated how nice it would be to wake up next to her for the rest of his life.

Then, he angrily crushed the thought, cursing himself for his folly and weakness. He could not have her and having shagged her certainly did not make things any easier. Frustrated, Harry quickly pulled his dressrobe over his naked body and headed out of the room into the bathroom.

- - - - -

A hot shower later, Harry slowly trudged down the stairs, dressed in the very same clothes he had worn yesterday, not daring to enter the room he shared with Ron to grab some new ones. Ron. Damn! How on earth was he going to look into his best mate's face after having shagged his baby sister only a few hours ago? He highly doubted that it would matter to Ron that he had been drunk; he would probably already be punching Harry directly after he had uttered the words "shagging" and "Ginny" in the same sentence. No, it was definitely better to leave his best friend in the dark, at least until he had mended things with Ginny. Until then, well, he would simply have to be a great actor.

Harry took heart in the face that at least the throbbing in his head had lessened, the first bright spot on this dark day. Nevertheless, he still wanted to get the potion or at least a cup full to the brim with hot, strong coffee. On his way to the kitchen, he caught glimpses of Ron and Hermione sleeping on a couch in the living room, snuggled tightly together. They definitely had not been there when he and Ginny had returned to the house yesterday and Harry considered this a very good sign indeed. It had been a long and hard way, but finally the two of them seemed to be getting their act together! Hopefully, their arguments would grow less numerous, a rift between his two friends would be the icing on Harry's current cake of problems.

Tiptoeing into the kitchen, Harry was more than a bit surprised to find Remus Lupin already there, even though the kitchen clock read no more than seven in the morning. A cup of coffee and the newest issue of the _Daily Prophet_ were lying on the table in front of him. He looked tired, but a small smile was plastered on his face nevertheless.

"Morning, Harry." he said as soon as Harry had entered the kitchen. "You don't look too well, rough night?"

"Too much Firewhiskey." replied Harry, pouring himself a cup of coffee out of the pot standing next to the stove. "When did you arrive? I do not recall seeing you during the ceremony."

"That's right, I arrived around eight o'clock last evening, but you were nowhere to be found at this time." answered his old teacher. "Anyway, I have got good news for you; the prophet reports that Hogwarts will be reopening! There will be some new security guidelines and a few new teachers, of course, but most will remain unchanged. McGonagall has been appointed headmistress by the board of governors. "

"That's good." replied Harry, pensively. "It will never be the same, though."

"Yeah, that's probably true." said Lupin, lost in thought for a moment, before changing the topic, apparently not in the mood to talk about Dumbledore's demise. "Anyway, I went through some of my old belongings yesterday, searching for a spellbook I owned ages ago and stumbled over a crate filled with old books. There were your father's and he gave them to me during the first war to help me surviving. As a tame werewolf I was trapped between the sides, hence James thought I could do with a bit of extra protection. A few days later he went into hiding and I got so caught up in the war that I forgot about the books entirely."

He extracted a tiny chest out of his picket and put if down on the table before returning it to its original size with a flick of his wand. It was made of dark wood and roughly ten inches wide, twenty long and five inches high. He opened it and extracted four battered books, placing them on the table as well. Harry quickly scanned the titles: _The Auror's Handbook, Focus Arkanum – Unleash Your Hidden Powers, Your Mind, Your best Weapon and Fifty Wicked Combat Spells_.

"I know that you are going to finish the quest you started with Dumbledore and that it will be dangerous. Therefore, I consider it appropriate to give these volumes to you." continued Lupin. "James was a passionate Auror and loved collecting all kind of information on fighting the dark arts. Some of the techniques described in them may be dangerous, I don't know, for I have never read them. It is possible that these books are therefore considered illegal, but we can't afford always playing by the rules in these dark times. It would be prudent not to mention that you own them, except to very trustworthy ears."

"Thanks Remus." replied Harry, feeling as though Christmas had come early this year. This was exactly the kind of information he had been looking for all summer! Maybe fate did not hate him as much as he had thought. "I will put them to good use."

"I expect nothing less." returned his old teacher. "Oh, and the Hangover Potion is in the cupboard to your right."


	6. Summer Trouble

Two days later Harry was sitting at the pond in the Burrow's garden, moodily flicking stones into the crystal clear water. The sun was shining brightly, as though it were mocking his dark mood. Birds were chirping in the trees surrounding the place, sounding way too happy in Harry's opinion. He should have known better. It had to happen this way and he was angry at himself for caring at all.

What had happened to put him in this bad mood? Well, Harry had spent most of the day passed avoiding Ginny, not yet ready to face her after their night spent together. He had occupied himself with reading the books Lupin gave him and was surprised what a good form of distraction they provided, after having shuffled through them for a while to grasp what they were about.

_Your Mind – Your Best Weapon_ dealt with all kind of mental techniques utilized to gain the upper edge while duelling. It described Legilimency and Occlumency as well as methods to attack your opponents mind directly either to incapacitate, to maim or to kill. However it took years to master the mental attacks and without enough training the caster simply was too slow and therefore too vulnerable while preparing his strikes or simply unable to produce psybeams with sufficient strength. Due to these reasons, Harry decided to focus on Legilimency and Occlumency at the moment, thoroughly sick of people snooping in his thoughts and being able to think of a few information he would like to extract from other people's minds. The book also mentioned a technique know as Blind Seeing, which allowed the user to feel other person's minds, rendering it almost impossible to surprise or to ambush him or her. The fact that you could recognize persons at the unique feeling their mind caused, was the icing on the cake. Harry had almost immediately added learning this method to his to-do list, knowing how useful it could be in combat.

_Fifty Wicked Combat Spells_ dealt with all kind of jinxes, curses, charms and hexes considered highly useful and potent in a wizard duel. Several of then were so powerful that they could blast through Shield Charms and still mortally injure the witch or wizard hiding beneath it. Also spells with an area of effect to fight several foes at once and advanced defence spells were described. It did not surprise Harry at all that the book had been restricted to Auror-use only by the Ministry, which was clearly indicated by the large red stamp which had been printed on the first page. The most interesting spell in the book though, was the Nearly Effortless Charm of Near Distance Teleporting, more commonly known as the Blinking Charm. Its user was able to "blink" over short distances, bypassing Anti-Apparation wards and without any inconvenience, a feat highly unusual for a magical way of travelling, which usually were either painful or dangerous. Of course the spell had a few drawbacks: it was very tiring when cast in rapid succession and the caster either had to be able to see the place he wanted to teleport to or remembering it from an earlier visit. The charm was another thing quickly added to Harry's agenda.

_The Auror's Handbook_ was a book dedicated to the way Aurors should behave in all kind of situations. It described everyday situations as well as full blown battles between numerous Aurors and criminals of any sort. Naturally Harry considered the parts the most interesting which dealt with strategies applied in close combat. Harry wanted to fight his bad habit of always rushing into a fight without having a plan and while he had no hope of ever achieving Ron's strategic genius, he still was convinced that the book, despite being very out of date, could make a difference. Maybe he would once even be able to win one game of chess against his best mate.

Last but not least there was the volume dealing with the Focus Arkanum. The Focus was a technique utilized to channel the magical energies of a magical being, allowing its users to cast stronger spells at a faster rate. Also it was supposed to increase your ability to pour the correct amount of power into any spell, rendering complex magical actions like transfiguration much easier. Normally a wand was employed to channel a wizard's or witch's energy so that he or she could spells. The Focus Arkanum was usually used to gain control over the amount of power the wand used, making it possible to supercharge spells. With sufficient energy channelled into it a more or less harmless Reductor Curse could morph into a flesh ripping bullet, which even penetrated walls. Theoretically it was even possible to substitute the wand completely, after all it was only a tool doing what the Focus could do much better, but this required a lot of concentration, energy and usually years of preparation. Therefore wands had been invented to make it easier for the mass of the magical population to actually cast magic and while a wand itself could never tap all of its wielders potential, this method had preserved. Of course the fact that the usage of the Focus Arkanum had caused a lot of deaths in the past due to wizards pouring too much of their energy in a spell, rendering themselves unable to control it and blowing themselves up in the process. Over the course of almost two thousand years, starting directly after the wand had been invented, the ancient Focus vanished more and more until only a few volumes about the subject remained. However not all wizards alive had forgotten about it. Harry had no idea if the Focus was indeed as powerful as the book described but even the small possibility that it would help him against Voldemort lifted his spirits.

So instead of sitting at the pond, sulking, he should be training everything he considered worthy, should not he? Well, he should, but he really was not in the mood at the moment and here is why.

Last night, while he had been lying awake in his bed, mulling over the wedding night's events, a topic the more sensual parts of his brain really liked to dwell, he had realized that neither Ginny nor him had used any protection while having sex. The thought of becoming a father in the middle of a war he was not sure he would survive terrified him. And Ginny would be in grave danger as soon as anyone learned that she was carrying his child! Voldemort would especially enjoy torturing her to death if he got his spidery hands on her! And how would Mr. and Mrs. Weasley react? Heck, how would Ginny react? This whole episode, bad enough itself, had the tendency to shake the very foundations of Harry's life and even this possibility rendered sleep impossible. He had lain awake all night, playing the what-if game until the sky got brighter and brighter. Finally abandoning all hope that sleep would claim him this night, he got out of bed vowing to talk with Ginny about the topic as soon as possible, sincerely hoping that everything would be alright.

Well, he had indeed talked to her, but everything was far from alright. He had approached her after breakfast, lingering behind until only the two of them were left in the kitchen. Breaking the topic casually he had considered impossible, so he had spent no time beating around the bush. She had told him not to worry about becoming a father for she had started taking a Contraceptive Potion while they were still together and had not stopped doing so after the break up. Harry would have liked to stop talking about this rather sensitive subject directly after this revelation, but Ginny had had other ideas. In her opinion their night together had been the ultimate proof that Harry wanted to be together with her, no matter how risky it could get. After all he had had unprotected sex with her in an unlocked room she had been sharing with Hermione. Every member of her family could have caught them in the act and he had not given a damn. Apparently he was more than willing to take the risks involved in having a relationship, so why should not they get back together?

Harry, naturally, viewed their night together as an unfortunate event caused by too much alcohol and teenage hormones. In his opinion nothing had changed, but as he told her his side of the story she had reacted badly, well actually much worse than badly. She had accused him of seeing her as some kind of cheap whore who would shag everyone in the country and it would not even make a difference! Harry had tried to calm her down but she had refused to listen to him and had stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind her. After staring dumbfounded at the closed door for a few seconds and after another few to figure out what exactly had happened, Harry had left for the pond to think. And of course to brood over the injustice of the world and to wallow in both self pity and self loathing. However he was not going to remain alone for a long time.

"It kinda sucks being you, doesn't it?" said a voice he recognized as Ron's from behind him, just as he was throwing another pebble into the water.

"What do you want Ron?" asked Harry tiredly, not in the mood to play any games with his best friends at the moment. "I am not in the mood to play Quidditch or chess or any other game. Unless you have something really important to tell me it would be better to leave me alone for a while."

"Always directly to the point, huh?" returned Ron, chuckling, while sitting down in the grass next to her. Harry's gaze fall unto his best mate's face he discovered that behind the joyful façade Ron's eyes remained solemn. Apparently he had something really important to talk about. "Very well, I wanted to talk about Ginny and you."

"What's there to talk about?" asked Harry, as nonchalantly as he could; hoping that playing dumb would spare him this awkward conversation.

"Don't play that game with me Harry." replied the redhead, rolling his eyes. "Hermione told me everything about Ginny's and your break up. Apparently my sister had wanted to share some things with her best female friend and after your little display this morning Hermione considered it best to inform me and convinced me to go after you while she talked with Ginny."

"Alright so you know how things are between Ginny and me, but that still does not make it your business." said Harry angrily, not at all in the mood for any of Ron's big brother antics at the moment. Was it _that_ difficult to see that Harry did not want to talk about this bloody subject? Talking with his best mate would not change anything but turning the knife in the wound caused by his involuntary break up. As much as he hated to admit it, he_ really _missed her.

"I am afraid that it is my business." answered Ron, his face and voice suddenly devoid of all the cheerfulness he had sported seconds ago. "My sister's boyfriends are my business if she likes it or not and if her boyfriend happens to be my best mate then it really is my business. If you had broken up with her for any other reason than to protect her I would have already kicked your arse. But on the other hand you seemed to be suffering at least as much as she does, so maybe kicking your arse would be irrelevant anyway…"

"I am so glad that you are once again in big brother mode." replied Harry scathingly, his patience wearing thin. "But you are mistaken, I don't miss Ginny and I really don't want her back."

His lie sounded unconvincing even in his own ears and Ron did not even bother commenting.

"So if you are suffering because of the break up and she is suffering because of the break up, then why the hell don't you get back together?" he asked instead.

"Are you bloody insane?" snapped Harry. Of all people he had thought Ron would understand why he had to end things with Ginny, after all the redhead was at least as protective of her as Harry was. "You know as well as I do that she will become one of Voldemort's main targets as soon as information leaks out that we are a couple! This sadist bastard will enjoy torturing her just to hurt me and I can't bear the thought of something happening to her just because I am her bloody boyfriend! I have lost enough people in my life already and I really don't want to add her name to the demised-because-they-chose-to-align-themselves-with-Harry-Potter list!"

"Yeah I know that and I understand you." replied Ron calmly. "But there is a big error in your logic. You-Know-Who already knows that you and Ginny once were a couple for it was big Hogwarts' gossip for almost two weeks. One of the Slytherins surely let something slip. And he does not know about your break up and even if he knew he would still be hunting Ginny just because there is the slight change that her capture would lure you out of hiding and cause you to attempt some crazy rescue mission. You told me two days ago to get a move on, because times are so unstable and because we may not have as much time as we thought we would have. Now I am passing the same piece of advice back to you. Both of you are miserable without each other and if you continue to dance around each other, it may be too late. Do you want Ginny to die with the last arguments between the two of you fresh in her mind? I certainly would not like Hermione to die this way. So get things back together, all right? You know you can do this, my sister can't stay mad at you for a long time."

Ron rose from the ground and clapped Harry on the shoulders in a reassuring manner. Harry felt the little sliver left of his determination to stay away from Ginny crumble under Ron's attempt to mend his relationship. He knew how clueless Ron was about feelings in general and the fact that even he had discovered how much Harry and Ginny missed each other spoke volumes. Even Ron, the most protective of Ginny's numerous brothers considered their relationship worth the risk of one losing the other. Could Harry really continue distancing himself from his pseudo ex-girlfriend, after Ron's encouraging words? Could he really not honour the trust Ron had in him? After all he knew Ron's attitude towards anyone starting a relationship with his treasured sister.

Well, maybe he could continue walking away, but Harry highly doubted that he could resist the combined pressure of Ron, Hermione and Ginny. He needed his strength to fight Voldemort and his goons and not his best friends and the girl he loved. Sighing, Harry decided that he had no other choice than to give in and even though he would have to confront a probably still livid Ginny in the near future, he felt kind of relieved as he rose from the ground and stood right next to his red haired friend.

"Oh, what I originally wanted to tell you." said Ron, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Apparently, he had expected Harry to struggle a lot more. "Our booklists arrived and mum wants us to go shopping today. You should better hurry we are going to leave in half an hour."

- - - - - -

Harry was strolling down Diagon Alley, his face hidden from view by his dark cloak's hood. He was alone, because many Order members had considered it much too suspicious for a cloaked figure the walk with the Weasley family, who always attracted way much attention thanks to their fiery hair and usually big numbers. It would not have taken a genius to figure out who a disguised person walking with them would be and all of them would be an easy target. So, their escort of various Order members, under the leadership of Mad Eye, had decided that Harry should go alone, while they kept an eye on the Weasleys and on him. Diagon Alley was by far not as crowded as it would have been two years ago, but still Harry could see a big number of Aurors guarding the place. Voldemort would be hard pressed to inflict any severe damage with the Aurors and the members of the Order of the Phoenix in place.

Of course this operation required a lot of manpower better used elsewhere, which was why Mad Eye had a first argued against Harry going the Diagon Alley at all. To Harry's surprise Molly Weasley had rushed to his aid, insisting that he should have the opportunity to go shopping as an ordinary boy. The grizzled ex-Auror had not liked it, but in the end he had given in, unwilling to spend too much of his time arguing with the stubborn Mrs. Weasley, but had insisted on splitting the groups and on Harry wearing a disguise. Mrs. Weasley had pursed her lips at the plan, but knew when not to press a compromise. Harry himself had been quite grateful for Mad Eye's plan, wanting to get away from Ginny for a while, who was stubbornly avoiding his gaze, failing horribly to keep a neutral expression on her face. Harry knew that he chat he planed to have with her later that day was going to uncomfortable at best, partly because Ginny was at least as hot tempered as he was and partly because he still did not know exactly what he had to apologize for. He knew that he was only delaying the inevitable, but still he felt grateful for the little extra time.

Pushing Ginny out of his mind, he pulled out the mysterious letter he had received together with his booklist and read it again, while he walked down the nearly empty alley.

_Dear Mister Potter,_

_Please meet me in my office before the welcoming feast; we have important things to discuss._

_Yours sincerely _

_Minerva McGonagall, headmistress._

It was short and to the point, but Harry could not think of a single thing the new headmistress wanted to discuss with him personally and that could not wait till the feast was over. What was so important that she did not even gave a hint in her letter? Was she going to riddle him about the quest he had started with Dumbledore once again? She should know better then to try, though. His attitude towards sharing the secret his old mentor had passed to him had not changed at all, and he was not going to pass this information to anyone. Dumbledore may have been much too trusting, but if even he did not consider the Order trustworthy enough to learn about the Horcruxes, then Harry certainly would not be foolish enough to tell them. Mulling the letter's content over and over in his head, Harry finally decided that the only way to find out was to indeed meet with McGonagall before the feast. Considering the dark times, bad news should be expected, but Harry was confident that nothing his old transfiguration professor could tell him would overwhelm him, he had had his fair share of bad news in the past, after all.

As he walked down the alley he suddenly saw a little shop in a side street he had never seen before. _Magical Devices To Fix Your Body's_ _Flaws_ was written in green ink on the front door. Harry's curiosity had been piqued. Mrs. Weasley had decided to get his books and every other stuff he might require at school so that he did have the time to look for more … exotic items, as she had put it. It also prevented him from walking into any shops where Death Eaters might be waiting for him, expecting him to buy his equipments like an ordinary schoolboy. Even though the shop did indeed look a bit shady, Harry decided to check it out. He still was in Diagon Alley after all and fixing your body's flaws sounded highly useful, especially if you expected to fight for your life in the near future.

He entered the shop and found it crammed with all kind of shelves filled with all possible variants of magical prostheses. There were wooden legs, golem arms and hands and even some of the magical glass eyes Mad Eye Moody used. Just as Harry bent down to closer examine one of the artificial eyes, a voice sounded behind.

"Well dearie, are you interested in buying one? Otherwise I must ask you not to touch them, they are very breakable."

Harry wheeled around to find a middle aged, plump witch with a heart shaped and cheery face standing behind a counter he had overseen in the chaos of the shop's interior. For a moment he was not sure what to say, but then an idea struck him.

"No, but I would like to buy some magical contact lenses." He said, realizing how helpless he would be in a fight as soon as his lenses were knocked askew. "Do you have got some?"

"Of course. Coloured or clear?" replied the witch.

"Clear." answered Harry very satisfied with his eyes' colour and seeing no need to change it anytime soon.

The witch started to rummage behind the counter for a while and extracted a small wooden box, placed it on the table and opened. Inside lay two small, clear lenses, protected by the chest's padded interior from any damage which might occur to them while getting transported or handled in the shop.

"These high quality lenses are one of the best on the market." explained the saleswitch. "Once in place they will automatically adjust themselves to your eyesight and will remain there until you wish to remove them. They are unbreakable and charmed to be extra soft so that they will never cause you any discomfort, while you are using them. There are a few better models on the market, buy they are restricted to Auror-use only, because they are able to see through Invisibility Charms and Cloaks. The same is true for some of the glass eyes. You don't look like an Auror, so will you take them?"

"Yes, I would like to buy them." answered Harry immediately, considering it highly unlikely that he could lay his hands on any of the Auror lenses. He paid the saleswitch the hefty sum of twenty galleons and she showed him how to attach and to remove the lenses. Harry took of his glasses and put in the contact lenses and was pleasantly surprised to find the world almost immediately slipping into focus. Pocketing his glasses, he left the shop and discovered that it was time to meet with the Weasleys already. Five minutes later he was back at the Burrow.

- - - - - -

The same day, after dinner, Harry walked up the stairs leading to Ginny's room, determined to finally fix things with her. She had constantly ignored him all day and all his attempts to start a conversation with her had been useless. Growing tired with her avoiding him, Harry had decided to take the bull by the horns and pay her a visit in her room. He knew that setting things right was not going to be easy, but the longer he delayed talking with her, the worse it would get. The irony of the situation did not escape him: a few days ago he had tried in vain to push her away and now he was successful but was not even in the least bit happy about it. Harry made a mental note to stay calm during their conversation, after all Ginny was a hothead herself and the situation would only grew even worse if he lost his temper as well. Steeling himself for the worst, he knocked once on the closed door leading to the lion's den, waiting for disaster to strike,

Nothing happened. Everything remained silent, no noise betraying Ginny's presence in the room. Harry furrowed his brows in annoyance; he knew that she was in there; after all he had seen her entering the room just a few moments ago. Hermione was downstairs with Ron so she was not hanging around with his best female friend. Therefore only two options remained. Either she had left the room without him noticing it or she was in there and ignoring any knocks on the door, because she expected him to come after her and had no intention to have a heart to heart with him. Well, only one way to find out.

Harry tried to open the door only to find it locked. Growling in frustration he whipped out his wand and tried to open it magically, using the Alohomora he had learned from Hermione during his first year. Nothing happened. Damn, he should have known. Ginny had six brothers so she would learn a hard to negate locking charm as soon as possible to prevent them from snooping in her room. Well, maybe a more direct approach would be in order.

"Ginny!" he bellowed, banging his fist against the door. "Open up this bloody door or I will blast it into a million pieces!"

For a moment nothing happened but then the door was yanked open revealing a livid Ginny Weasley standing on the threshold. Her chocolate eyes were burning with rage and she was glaring at Harry in an intimidating way which would have made Mrs. Weasley proud. Harry thought she was incredibly sexy.

"Harry James Potter!" she shouted. "How dare you threatening to blast down my door? You will leave right now and leave me alone before I hex you into oblivion! You have made you point, haven't you? You don't care about me you only wanted to sha… - oomph!"

Harry had quickly pushed her inside just in time before she could share the fact that they had had sex with the entire Weasley family, which probably would have severe consequences for him. They were going to talk, but privately and not in hearing distance to any other member of the family. He doubted that Ron, despite having encourage him to get back together with Ginny, would be overjoyed to find out all the details of his sister's and best mate's relationship. He closed the door behind him, while Ginny regained her balance and just had time to cast a Silencing and Locking Charm on the door, before she was shouting at him again.

"WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?" she demanded angrily, her fiery gaze locking with his.

"Talking to you." replied Harry calmly, even though he was starting to get slightly intimidated by the livid redhead standing in front of him.

"I think we have some things to discuss and I don't want your whole family to know about all the details."

"We have nothing to discuss." snapped Ginny, having calmed down somewhat. "You think I am so kind of whore and shagging me is no big deal, because everyone is going to have a go, so you can just go and leave me alone! I should have known better! That was the reason why you do not want to be together with me, you don't want to be tied to a girl!"

"That's rubbish and you know it!" returned Harry heatedly, getting riled up by all the unfair accusations she threw at him. "You know why I broke things off with you and you know that I never planned on using you!"

"THE HELL I KNOW!" she shouted, her original fury back. "I thought I knew you! I expected you to come back to me and I was not too surprised to wake up one morning after getting ravished from you the night before, but I would have never considered it possible that you would dare telling me that nothing had changed afterwards! Now I am not sure what I know anymore, why don't you tell me? You seem to know everything, what…"

Harry shut her up in the only way he could think off: he kissed her. He crushed his lips to hers and pried her mouth open with his tongue. Their tongues met, just a buried one hand in her fiery mane and cupped her right cheek with the other one. She started to respond and an electric tingle travelled down his spine as their tongues started to dance. They could always talk later, now they had some problems to mend.

- - - - - -

While Harry and Ginny were sorting out their problems, Sandro the assassin had just arrived at the shaft that would be his entrance to the Ministry of Magic. It was part of the ministries ventilation system, but had been abandoned and sealed nearly fifty years ago. Normally, this would render it impossible for anyone to enter, but Sandro had learned from an informant that a tiny crack had appeared in the seal, a crack that would be sufficient for him to enter. Sandro slipped out of his black cloak and neatly folded it before laying it to the ground. Had any Muggles been near, they would have been shocked to discover that instead of flesh, Sandro's whole body seemed to be made of shadows. The only thing not black on his ebony body, which resembled that of a slim, athletic tall man, were his eyes which were only white slits and his needle like teeth. Smiling a toothy grin, the shade assassin, jumped right into the shaft, which was only one feet wide. He should have never been able to fit through it, but his body turned into a cloud of shadows and he swiftly floated down the tunnel.

He slipped through the hair thin crack in the magical seal blocking the shaft and entered the Ministry's main ventilation system. Sandro had been there several times and therefore had no trouble finding a way leading to the place he wanted to go. A few minutes later, he left the ventilation shaft in the department of the Ministry where especially valuable prisoners were held, normally criminals needed to testify for the Wizengamont to gain enough evidence to arrest an even bigger fish. And that was exactly why Sandro was here. Some members of the Wizarding World paid very much money to dispose an old friend currently in the Ministry's custody. It was amazing how generous fear could turn a person. Sandro had been hired to dispel and old wizard's worries today and he intended to do so.

He shifted back into his human from and crept along the deserted corridors. Few people had access to this high security area and that made it even easier for the assassin to do his job. Apparently the Ministry had not considered it possible for someone to evade the countless wards and protective enchantments placed on this place regular entry and Sandro made a mental note to keep his method of entering the place a secret as long as possible, just in case he had to make another _visit_ in the near future. Sneaking around another corner, Sandro finally found what he was looking for.

A small, fat man with greasy grey hair was held in one cell at the very end of the corridor, a single bored looking guard standing in front of the cell's door. His clothes marked him as a member of the Squad of Magical Law Enforcement, which was not a surprise, because Aurors were much too valuable to be used for guard duties and therefore were only ordered to do so if extremely dangerous prisoners had to be monitored. Sandro smiled his toothy grin, because this would make things even easier for him.

Before the guard had any chance to react, Sandro had already launched his attack. In a lightning fast movement, one of his arms, which ended in claws rather than in hands, extended to almost fifteen feet in length, and started flying towards the surprised guard and ripped his throat out, painting the nearest walls red. The prisoner, who had until a few seconds ago talked heatedly to the guard, obviously trying to convince him to let him go, screamed in terror and stumbled back against his cell's wall, but it was already too late. Sandro had turned into smoke once again, slipping through the iron bars and blasting through the enchantments guarding the place as though they did not even exist. Teeth bared in a leery smile, he grab the convict by the neck and lifted him of the ground, taking a moment to bath in the angst he could see in his victim's eye, before breaking his neck with a single, quick movement.

He dropped the body to the ground, before summoning the black book holding the names of his next jobs. He smiled as he crossed out today's name. Another job well done.


	7. Return to Hogwarts

a/n: There you are guys, the next chapter. I hope you will enjoy it and I would really appreciate some feedback. So please, grant me the one minute necessary for a review, this is your chance of becoming a little hero, come on and take it!

I don't know when I will be able to up the next chapter, because I will spend the next week without a PC, but don't worry, it will definitely be written and uploaded. On with the story!

- - - - -

"Quite a way to solve problems isn't it?" asked Ginny, snuggling closer to Harry's body. They were lying naked on the bed in her room, the blanket loosely draped around their heated bodies. Harry was lying on his back and had his eyes half-closed, looking more than ready to fall asleep any moment. Ginny, however, was wide awake and was lying on top of him, her soft body pressed against his hard one. "Hey, don't you dare falling asleep, we still have things to discuss!"

"Sorry." replied Harry softly, a smug grin forming on his face. "It is exhausting to be such a great lover and I actually have to do something, while you can lie back and enjoy it. And then I am not even allowed to rest, oh how cruel the world has become!"

"Shut it, Harry." said Ginny, but could not help laughing at his bold words. "Are you planning to win the biggest-ego-of-the-century contest? Because I think with this attitude you would have a very good chance to be the winner. Honestly, a sex god after two times, what a ridiculous statement."

"You know I was only joking." returned Harry, leaning in to place a tender kiss on her lips. "But this does not change the fact that you _did_ enjoy it!"

"Okay, okay, I get it." replied Ginny, laughing. "You are the sex god and I am so incredibly fortunate to have you using your precious time to shag me silly, right?"

"That's it." said Harry, before having to laugh as well. "Okay enough of the sex-god talk, you still wanted to talk did not you?"

"Yeah." she said, her face suddenly sober, a hint of worry creeping into her eyes. "Harry what exactly are we now? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Friends with benefits? Do you have any plans to push me away again? Because if you have, then you should better leave now before I get accustomed to the thought of having you back. It is going to hurt less that way."

Harry's eyes snapped open completely and locked with hers, emerald green meeting chocolate brown. After a few heartbeats, he spoke up, his eyes still boring into hers.

"After more than a month, many broken hearts, many arguments and a few shags later, we are back to where it all began. I hate to admit it, but I was miserable without you. I wanted to come back to you, to find happiness in your arms once again, but I considered it my duty to protect you at all cost, even if this meant never seeing you again. Well, I tried, but I failed. I could not resist your charms and Hermione's and Ron's attempts to get us back together. Maybe this makes me selfish, but I want to spend as much time as possible with you, especially because anyone of us could be dead tomorrow."

"Don't say that." replied Ginny, thickly as though she was fighting back tears. "No one is going to die and don't you even dare considering to die! If you leave me alone, I will personally find a way to revive you, just to kick your ass! I have lost you once already, at Dumbledore's funeral and I never want to experience something even remotely similar again. Ever."

"This is not about what you or I want, Ginny." reminded Harry her softly. "All of us have to shoulder our own burdens during these dark times and your may be watching me die. We do not have a say in the matter. No one really controls this war anymore, not even Voldemort. There are too many pieces on the chess board and some are not even tied to one side. Its pure and simple chaos and we have no other choice than to endure and see what will come. No, that's not entirely true, we could still walk away and leave everyone else behind to fight for him- or herself…"

"You would never choose the easy way out Harry, would you?" she asked, sad eyes fixed on his face.

"No."

"Not even if I would beg you to do so?"

"Not even then." replied Harry, simply, his face growing grim. "Voldemort has done way too much to me, he will pay, no, he _must_ pay. And I will be the one to finally get rid of him. Not only because of this blasted prophecy, no, a part of me is screaming at me to find the bloody bastard and to rip him into a billion pieces. I don't want to fight and I am afraid – heck, I am scared out of my wits at the thought of ever having to duel Riddle on my own once again, but I keep going. Do you know why?"

The moment it had left his mouth, Harry realized that he had not told Ginny about the prophecy. He cursed himself for his slip and expected her to start nagging him about the subject immediately. He made a mental note not to tell her, unwilling to give Voldemort one more reason to go after her. However his willpower remained untested, for Ginny decided not to press the subject.

"No, why?" she asked instated, her voice so small that Harry almost did not hear it.

"Because of you." He whispered, his eyes softening. "I want you to live in a world where you can be happy, I want you to live in a world which deserves you and not in the twisted dictatorship Voldemort is going to erect. And most of all I want to be with you as soon as everything is over, but I can't promise that I will. If I have to die, then I will make sure that Voldemort dies with me, so that you, Ron, Hermione, your mum and dad, the rest of your family and all the innocents out there can live in peace. That's why I am not going to run away, I won't let Voldemort win and I have been hunted for so long already, I don't want to spend the rest of my life in the same way."

"I understand Harry." answered Ginny, quietly. "You are right, but I can't help wishing that we could simply run away."

"This only makes you human, Ginny." said Harry looking into her brown eyes, which were slightly shining with tears. "It's perfectly normal, I have done the same countless times, don't beat yourself up about it."

Silence stretched between them and for a long while the only sound in the room was their soft breathing.

"I am sorry." said Harry suddenly, one hand toying with one of her fiery locks, while looking into her chocolate eyes.

"What for?" asked Ginny, her brows knitting together in confusion.

"For being a noble prat in the last month." he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. "For making both of us miserable and for being too blind to even see my mistakes."

"It's okay, Harry." answered Ginny, kissing him tenderly kiss on the lips. "I know you only did it to protect me and as long as you stay my noble prat, everything will be fine."

Harry felt a silly smile stretch over his face and he lowered his lips to hers feeling it more than appropriate to celebrate the moment.

After a few minutes they broke apart, both of them gasping for breath.

"You should better go, you know?" asked Ginny, even though her body was burning for him and she wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening and the night with him. "Hermione is not going to wait forever to come to be bed and I don't fancy her walking into us."

"You are right." said Harry, disappointment evident in his voice. "It's probably better that way."

He rolled out of dressed quickly. He left the room after kissing her goodnight, whistling as he trudged up the stairs leading to his room.

- - - - -

The rest of the summer holidays passed in a blur. Busier than he had ever been during this time of the year Harry found himself constantly wondering if someone had bewitched the clocks to work at double speed. He had thrown himself into his work, using every free minute to shuffle through the books Remus had given him, soaking up all information which could even be remotely helpful while fight the Dark Arts in general and bloody Voldemort in particular. It was not unusual to find Harry curled up in one of the old and battered, but comfortable armchairs in the Weasley's living room after dinner absorbed in his copy of the _Auror's Handbook_. Ron scoffed at his hermioneish behaviour, but was at least interested what could cause Harry to abandon the laziness he usually sported during the summer holidays. Hermione of course was more than a bit pleased about him studying during the holidays, and she nearly flipped as he showed her what exactly he was working on. Harry could not remember seeing ever so obvious greed in his best female friend's face and she had immediately started to beg him to allow her to have a look at the volumes. Ron and Ginny, who had been nearby, had joined in and after a few minutes of pestering, Harry had granted all of them access to the restricted material.

Harry had mixed feelings on this development. He hated dragging his friends and the girl he loved even deeper in the wretched war going on and he could not help feeling that granting them access to books dealing about how to fight properly was not exactly keeping them away from the violence on the streets. Still, it felt right. He was not encouraging them to join the fighting, right? All he wanted was them to be ready if they were attacked by any of Voldemort's goons and it really could not hurt to give them the means to defend themselves, just in case they would have to fight someday… oh who was he kidding? Of course they would have to fight, like he had to and Harry was powerless to prevent it. War was not a fire which slowly crept over the country, emanating from a single spot; no it was a shower of meteors, striking without a pattern behind them, making it impossible to predict where the next one would hit the ground. No matter where or who someone was, as long as one remained within Great Britain the war would find him or her, the only question was when. Harry would have preferred to keep his close ones out of this murderous madness, but he was powerless to change the very nature of war itself. He would just have to live with the fact that neither him nor his friends would come out of this mess without their innocence in shatters.

Now, the evening before his final return to Hogwarts, Harry was glad for having spent so much time training over the summer. The Death Eaters marched every night, spreading destruction and despair over the country and being powerless to stop it riled him up to no end. He was itching for a fight and more than eager to put his new abilities to good use. It took every ounce of his willpower to stay put and to keep out of the fight until he was really ready. There was no point in confronting Voldemort while his Horcruxes were still intact and Harry was not naïve enough to think that he, the Ministry or the Order could stop the attacks on Muggles and Muggleborns all over Britain. No, as long as Voldemort lived, they would simply have to endure and to try minimizing the damage and currently they were failing miserably. Every death further fuelled the publics panic and desperation, causing the pressure on the Ministry and on the Chose One to grow every day. Harry knew that he should not let himself feeling guilty about not being ready, but he could not help feeling responsible for every new death, despite Ron's, Hermione's and Ginny's combined efforts, who were almost constantly reminding him that it was not his fault.

However, there was a silver lining. For the first time in his life, Harry considered it possible to actually beat Voldemort in a duel. He had made incredible process over the summer, thanks to the books Remus had provided. Harry had concentrated on learning the Focus Arcanum, Occlumency, Blind Seeing and the Blinking Charm and he was more than a bit proud that he had been successful.

Two entirely different methods of Occlumency were described in _Your Mind – Your Best Weapon._ Both had the same goal, to protect your valuable thoughts, but utilized different ways to achieve it. The traditional Occlumency tried to block all attempts to see in the user's mind, by creating a subconscious mental shield. This natural defence could only work if the user's consciousness was completely devoid of any interfering emotions and thoughts. You had to wipe your mind blank, only for a few seconds to repel an attack, but still it required a lot of self control. Despite the various techniques to do so described in the book, Harry had found it still impossible to get rid of his emotions, simply because he wanted to. He used to imagine standing face to face with a sneering Snape and as soon as he felt himself getting really angry, would try to clear his mind. He had not succeeded once. Frustrated he had started to study the other described method, a much more recent variant of Occlumency, barely ten years old.

It had been developed to help all people struggling with the conservative way, like Harry was. Instead of blocking all access, it allowed the attacker limited access to the user's mind, but he or she could decided which information one wanted to share with the intruder. Of course the memory of eating porridge in the morning was completely useless for any foe and therefore it was almost as effective as the traditional Occlumency. The trick was to concentrate as hard as you could on a particular, mundane memory as soon as one felt another person's presence in one's mind. The tricky part was to actually realize that your mind was getting attacked, but after a few days of practicing, Harry was quite sure that he could manage it. However, he had no way of being sure for he had no one capable of Legilimency to test his defence. Maybe Hermione could help him out here and he made a mental note to ask her as soon as possible.

He had also learned Blind Seeing, which enabled him to feel other person's minds. At the moment it still required a lot of concentration, but with enough practice he would be able to do it subconsciously and therefore be incredibly hard to ambush or to surprise. Plus, he would be able to see through most disguises, as long as he knew the person who was trying not to get recognized, for every mind had a unique feel. It was nearly indescribable feeling to actually be able to grasp something as intangible as the very core of another person. It felt a bit like getting watched, combined with a garbled mass of emotions, which felt way too distant to be one's own and something totally different, which probably was a person's soul. Harry had already memorized the unique feeling of Ron's, Hermione's and Ginny's mind and he planned to do so for all of his close allies, having no desire to accidentally curse them in a battle.

Harry had also started to train using the Focus Arkanum and had been surprised to find out that he seemed to have a knack for the technique. The first step was to find your magical centre, the place where all of your magical energy was stored. It was possible to sink into a trance deep enough to visit your centre in your mind and it was essential to know this place to draw power from it in the first place. The volume dealing with the Focus had provided Harry with the proper way to find his magical energies. It had been pretty easy actually. All he had to do was to cast a spell and pay attention to where the magic actually came from, before it flowed into his wand. Then he had to close his eyes and retrace the steps in his mind, arriving back at the source. It had taken him some tries but after half an hour he had finally found it and had been more than a bit surprised to fall into a boiling see of raw power. He had been so surprised that he had jerked out of his meditation immediately. For a split second his body had been burning with energy, but it had faded too quickly for him to try any spells, like water through a sieve.

After this experience, Harry had been incredibly motivated, itching to find a way to put the enormous mass of unused power insider of him to good use. Theoretically it was not that difficult, all you had to do was to concentrate on tapping into your magical centre and on extracting a bit of power to pour it into the spell you were currently casting. The extra energy would get combined with the amount of power the wand was channelling itself and the spell would be more powerful than usual. However it was very difficult to concentrate on fetching your extra power, while you had to wave your wand in the correct pattern, utter the right incantation and to aim at your desired target, all in the time of a heartbeat. It had taken Harry almost two full days to manage an overpowered stunner for the first time and the result had been pretty disappointing. He had only managed to channel a bit extra power into the spell and the only visible effect had been a slightly bigger red beam.

Still, he had been pleased with himself and over the passed month had gone better and better. He had been nowhere near channelling too much power into a spell, which had happened to lots of mages using the Focus Arkanum in the past, but Harry was not arrogant enough to consider this a result of his skill. No, he strongly suspected that he just was not good enough yet to blow himself up and was partly relieved and partly disappointed about it. But the Burrow was really not the place to practice dangerous spells, after all Harry had no desire to turn the house he considered his second home into a smocking ruin. Therefore he had decided to wait until his return to Hogwarts where he could practice in the safety of the Room of Requirements, which would simply adapt to withstand any magical explosion Harry would cause, either on purpose or accidentally.

That was also the reason, why he had only practiced the Blinking Charm out of _Fifty Wicked Combat Spell, _the other spells either were too dangerous or required someone to duel with him, like the advanced Shield Charms, for example. Harry did not fancy starting a duel under Molly Weasley's nose, who still was trying to shield the kids as much as possible from the war, and therefore decided to start practicing these spells at Hogwarts. However, learning the Blinking Charm had been far easier than he had thought, it was actually very similar to Apparating, but it did required some quick wand movements, while Apparation was possible without any tools. Technically it was not really a teleportation, the caster simply was transformed into extremely fast moving energy and therefore only appeared to be jumping from one place to the next.

This also was the reason, why you could bypass Anti-Apparation wards with the charm and it explained why it was limited to short distances. The transformation was very straining to the body and energy itself was very volatile. Staying gaseous for a too long time would mean getting shattered into a billion slivers of energy all over the world and as soon as the transformation would wear of, you were dead. To avoid these unfortunate deaths, the charm had been limited to safe, short distances only, but it was still possible to deal severe damage to your body by teleporting too frequently without giving your organism the time to recover.

Speaking of Apparation, Harry and Ron had taken their Apparation exam together over the summer, Harry's first and Ron's second. Despite having been in the same situation once before, Ron had been a ball of nerves and Harry had tried in vain to calm him down. He himself had been confident about the test, having Apparated with Dumbledore back to Hogwarts at the end of the last year, but still butterflies had been flying in his stomach when he had been standing in the plain room in the Ministry of Magic, where a very bored old wizard had tested him. In the end both Ron and he had passed, to the first's great relief. Mrs. Weasley had of course considered it appropriate to celebrate this happy occasion with a feast, which had, naturally, further lifted Ron's spirits.

Despite the wedding and the rather improvised celebration after the Apparation exams, another event had caused Mrs. Weasley the show her mastery of cooking. Harry's birthday had been celebrated, belated, because of the wedding and no one had been more surprised than Harry himself. He had completely forgotten about it, wrapped up in his sorrow about Dumbledore, busy deciding what to do next and finally absorbed in his then messed up relationship with Ginny and in his training. He had been dumbstruck when he arrived at breakfast late one day, to find himself face to face with a birthday cake bearing his name and with a crowed of cheering guests. He had already been truly touched then, but he had completely overwhelmed as he saw his presents.

Ginny, Ron and Hermione had bought him a wand holster, which could be strapped to the wrist, allowing the user to draw his wand within a split second, while the rest of the Weasley, plus Tonks and Remus Lupin had banded together to buy him a full set of dragon armour, consisting of a vest, a trouser, a jacket, gloves and boots. Charley claimed that it had been made of Hungarian Horntail Leather and was able to absorb most spells, except for the Unforgivables of course. Harry had been speechless for a moment, knowing fully well how expensive the armour must have been and then had argued that he could never accept such an valuable gift. Well, of course he had not been successful and Ginny had finally silenced his attempts by snogging him right there in the kitchen, causing almost all her brothers to avert their eyes in disgust.

Yeah, things were back to normal between Ginny and him, probably better than they had ever been and despite the teasing both of them now had to endure, despite the fact that a war was raging on and despite the fact that Harry was still waiting on a brainwave telling him where to find the next Horcrux, he was happy. He actually felt as though nothing could go wrong, as long as Ginny stayed at his side and he was almost constantly wondering when he had become that naïve.

Things between Ron and Hermione were going well, so far they had not killed each other and no severe argument had shaken the Burrow's walls. Of course they still bickered on a daily basis, but Harry doubted that this would ever change. Both Ron and Hermione had been avoiding any public displays of affection, probably unwilling to become the subject of Fred and George's teasing, like Harry and Ginny had become, and Harry was devoutly thankful about this. The thought of catching his two best friends making out send shivers down his spine and he had added this to the list of things he really did not want to experience.

Much faster than Harry had ever considered possible, he found himself standing once again on King's Cross, platform 9 ¾, face to face with the scarlet Hogwarts Express. The platform was much less crowded than it had been all the years before and despite the closeness of the train's departure things were not nearly as hectic as they had been before. Apparently the war had caused many families to keep their children close instead of sending them to Hogwarts, which probably felt much less safe with Dumbledore dead and buried, and Harry could hardly blame them – Hogwarts just was not the same without the slightly eccentric headmaster. Even though it was hardly necessary, Harry could see at least ten Aurors guarding the platform, obviously there to ensure the few students safety.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had arrived together with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Tonks and Mad-Eye Moody as an escort. They had of course taken longer then expected to arrive at the station, partly because Ron and Harry had once again opted to do their packing at the very morning of their departure and partly because Mad-Eye had insisted on using the Muggle underground, because it was less conspicuous, which had of course caused Mr. Weasley to get ecstatic about all the Muggle technology and therefore created further delay. Finally they had been at the station barely five minutes before the train was scheduled to depart. After a hurried goodbye – they had to gently pry themselves from Molly Weasley's bone breaking embraces – they boarded the train. Ron and Hermione walked to the prefect carriage, the latter far more eager then the first after having been made Headgirl, and left Harry and Ginny to find a compartment on their own, a task much easier then usual, due to the lack of students. The two of them joined Neville and Luna in an otherwise empty one, enthusiastically greeting their old friends.

"Hey, Harry, Ginny." hailed Neville, before raising an eyebrow at their joined hands. "Still an item, right?"

"You could say that." replied Harry, smiling, sharing a glance with Ginny. "Despite everything we are still together."

Before Neville had the chance to ask what exactly Harry had meant, Ginny had already asked Luna about a trip to Indonesia she had done with her dad and the blonde girl had launched in an explanation about whatever strange magical creature they had hoped to encounter. After she as finished Ginny told Neville and Luna about Bill's wedding, of course leaving out the rather juicy events between Harry and her, and soon Ron and Hermione had joined them.

Without Malfoy, the trip had been rather uneventful and the six of them soon there standing at Hogwarts' entrance gates, after having been greeted rather unenthusiastically by Hagrid, who still seemed to mourning Dumbledore's death. Just as they were about to enter the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall's sharp voice caused them to halt.

"Potter, I need you in my office, please follow me."

Mentally kicking himself for forgetting about his appointment with the new headmistress, Harry told the others to save him a seat and followed his former Transfiguration teacher, wondering what she could possible want from him.

- - - - -

Harry slipped into the seat next to Ron twenty minutes later, his head still buzzing slightly from his conversation with the new Headmistress.

"What did I miss?" he asked his friends.

"The sorting." replied Ginny. "Flitwick is deputy headmaster and therefore lead the ceremony, we are only waiting for McGonagall, what did she want by the way?"

"She gave me something, Dumbledore wanted me to have." answered Harry quietly, one of his hands, slipping into his robe pocket, touching the tiny wooden chest he had been given. "I will tell you later."

Harry briefly scanned the teacher table and was surprised to find two new faces. Well, one he already knew, sitting next to Hagrid was Kingsley Shacklebolt, his right arm wrapped in crisp, white bandages and a cane resting on the floor next to him. The other unknown person was a beautiful witch in her thirties with long blonde locks and piercing silver eyes. Harry could see more than a few male students drooling over the new teacher and he quietly chuckled to himself as he caught Ron ogling her as well.

Just as he was about to ask Hermione what Kingsley was doing here, the doors leading to the Great Hall opened and the Headmistress entered. The room grew quiet almost instantly and Harry suddenly realized that less than half of the usual population had remained. The Slytherin table was almost completely empty and Harry had the bad feeling the most of those missing had chosen Voldemort's side.

"You should fortify yourself, because I have prepared a long speech." said the new headmistress as soon as she had taken her seat on the teacher's table." Enjoy your meal." With these words, the empty golden plates filled with all kind of food, causing most students, including Ron, to tuck in heartily. Harry himself was wondering too much about what McGonagall had to say, to notice what exactly he was eating and he could tell by the pensive looks on both Hermione's and Ginny's faces that they were in the same situation.

About an hour later the plates were cleared and McGonagall rose to begin her speech.

"First of all welcome to a new year at Hogwarts, even though it is going to be a dark one. We still mourn the loss of Albus Dumbledore, the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had and the war between He-Who-Mustn't-Be-Named and the rest of the Wizarding World has already started. To ensure every students safety there is a squad of ten Aurors stationed at Hogsmeade, ready to interfere should it be necessary."

"Nevertheless I must ask everyone to remain alert and careful and to report any unusual occurrences immediately. Furthermore Hogsmeade weekends have been cancelled, due to security reasons. Unfortunately we were also forced to cancel the intern Quidditch Cup, because both the Ministry and the board of governors considered it too big a risk to…"

The rest of her statement was lost in a cry of outrage by most of the pupils. Ron was swearing like a sailor next to him and Ginny pulled a face as though she had just swallowed a whole bottle of stink sap. Harry himself was not too happy about this change, but considered it necessary and was glad for having extra time to practice duelling without having to worry about Quidditch training. He suddenly realized that no captain badge had been included in his Hogwarts letter, which made a lot of sense now. Apparently the decision to abandon interhouse Quidditch had not been a recent one.

"Silence please!" commanded McGonagall and the hall fell silent once again. "I am well aware that the decision is not a popular one, but that does not mean that I am even remotely considering reversing it! Nevertheless, I am pleased to welcome two new teachers, Professor Shacklebolt, who will be teaching Defence against the Dark Arts and Professor Diana, who will take over the position as a Transfiguration Professor as well as being head of Gryffindor. Also I welcome Professor Slughorn back, who kindly agreed to return to teach Potions."

Kingsley, did not even bother to look up from the book he was reading, as his name was mentioned, but the blonde called Diana, gave the students a small wave, a relaxed smile on her face. Slughorn, extroverted as usual, made a big show of bowing in obedience as McGonagall mentioned him in her speech, a gesture rendered completely ridiculous by his enormous belly.

"There had been a change to the curriculum this year, affecting only the sixth and seventh years." continued the headmistress. "A new subject called Practical Fighting Techniques has been created and, while being voluntarily in nature, it is every student's duty to at least visit the first lesson. It was not mentioned in your letters, because the teacher only agreed today to actually hold it."

The small pause after this statement was enough to cause the Great Hall to buzz with rumours as the students started to discuss the new subject. However, the studnets fell silent barely half a minute later, as McGonagall cleared her throat before continuing.

"To raise everybody's mood and to make at least partly up for the loss of Quidditch, we have decided to hold a Christmas Ball on Christmas Eve and..."

For the second time this evening the headmistress sentence was lost in the student's reactions, the male part groaning in unison, while the girls squealed in delight. Yeah, it was going to be a really unusual and interesting year.

- - - - -

The room was small, circular and completely bare except for the large cauldron standing in its middle. Only the fire flickering beneath it and the bluish glow of the potion shimmering inside the copper cauldron illuminated it. Severus Snape was standing hunched over the precious potion, lazily stirring counter clockwise with a huge sliver spoon. A bag of ingredients was resting at his feet and he added a bit of powdered diamond to the syrupy liquid watching it turning to deep purple. This looked good. Hardly a month left and it was finished. Satisfied, Snape allowed himself a small smile, imaging the rewards his master would grant him after he had taken over the world.


	8. Practical Fighting Techniques

Harry rose early on the first day of his last year in Hogwarts. After announcing the Christmas Ball, McGonagall had only reminded them of the list of banned items Argus Filch had worked so hard to keep up to date over the recent years, before sending them off to bed. Originally Harry had wanted to open the chest the headmistress had given him as soon as possible, but the common room was way too crowded to do so, regarding the probably sensitive information stored inside the shrunken wooden box. It was too late to sneak into the Room of Requirements without risking getting caught and he could not use his invisibility cloak, because at least Ron and Hermione would want to accompany him. Ginny would probably want to know too, but Harry was not at all comfortable of dragging her even deeper into the murderous clash between Voldemort and himself. No, the less she knew, the better. So, Harry had decided to call it a night and headed to bed early, after bidding goodbye to Ginny, Ron and Hermione.

Harry climbed into his four poster and realized with a pang of regret that he would be hard pressed to spend another night with Ginny in his arms now that he had returned to school, like he had done so often over the last few weeks. Of course Ron did not know anything about him and Ginny having sex and Harry had no intention of telling him. No, judging by the way Ron had averted his eyes and Harry had kissed Ginny good night, it was probably wise to prolong telling him how intimate the relationship between his little sister and best mate had become as long as possible; preferably until after they were married. Closing his eyes, Harry concentrated deeply on the steak he had just eaten in the Great Hall to create his Occlumency shields. It had taken him some time to learn how to get to sleep, while using this technique, but now it felt completely natural and he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

- - - - -

Harry awoke early the next morning. The sun had just started to rise as he slipped quietly out of bed, careful not to rouse his still sleeping roommates. He dressed quickly, his head still slightly foggy from sleep and crept downwards into the common room. He thought briefly about opening the mysterious wooden chest McGonagall had given him right here in the stil deserted room, but decided against it, knowing that Ron and Hermione wanted to be there when he unlocked this particular secret. Knowing Dumbledore whatever he had put into the box to help Harry in his quest was so vague or cryptic that he could do with two extra minds to understand it. Instead, he read in his copy of the Auror's Handbook, wanting to be ready for the Practical Fighting Technique he was bound to have soon. Preparation was usually the key to succeeding and Harry did not consider this an exception and Harry did not consider this an exception to the rule. Fifteen minutes of reading later, he slipped downstairs to an early breakfast, wondering what kind of surprises the first Tuesday of his final year at school would bring.

- - - - -

Harry's first lesson of the day was Potions, followed by Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts. The first want well enough, despite Harry not having Snape's old Potions book any longer. He had toyed with the thought of recurring it from the Room of Requirements, but he loathed his former teacher way too much to use anything even remotely tied to the renegade Potion Master. The seventh year's Potion curriculum dealt mostly with elixirs changing a person's appearance and or personality. After revising a few potions, which they had brewed during the last six years, Slughorn instructed them to brew him an elixir which turned the drinker's hair blonde – the students with natural blonde hair were instructed to change an ingredient so their hair would become black instead. It was a highly complicated formula and both its duration, as well its potency were dependant on how correctly it was brewed. At the end of the lesson, Slughorn ordered them to drink their own work. Hermione's hair, of course, turned perfectly blonde, while Harry's still had a few black strands in it and Ron's was exactly half red, half white blonde, each colour occupying on half of his head, which caused him to look completely ridiculous. Slughorn told them that he wanted to see how long their self brewed potion lasted and therefore had decided to give them the antidote at the end of the week. Full marks would be only achieved if your hair was still completely blonde then. Harry was not very fond of his new hair colour, for it reminded him way too much of Malfoy and therefore he could not wait for his normal ebony strands to return. Also he could not help wondering if the potion had affected _all_ the hairs on his body.

Transfiguration with Professor Diana was totally different to what Harry was used to, due to gorgeous, young Professor being completely different to McGonagall. She was kind and liked to lighten her lesson's atmosphere by an occasional joke or two, something her predecessor had never ever done during her life as a teacher. Harry learned that she had been one of McGongall's best students ever and had worked in the Transfiguration Reversal ward of St. Mungo's spell damage floor since she had left school. It had been her job to correct all kind of botched up transfigurations, which was not easy, because it was impossible to return a person to one hundred percent of his or her natural form, while the witch or wizard was halfway stuck between two different ones. Trying to usually resulted in the loss of one or two limbs or more sensitive body parts and therefore few were desperate enough to try it. So, an incorrect transfiguration was cured by finishing the intended change and then returning the patient to his or her normal shape and Diana had been doing this complicated job for the last fifteen years until McGonagall had hired her a week after Dumbledore's funeral. She had accepted immediately.

As well as Potions, Transfiguration dealt with changing a person's appearance this year. Human transfiguration was extremely difficult and could go horribly wrong when not performed with the necessary skill and the correct state of mind. However, it was much faster as using potions and therefore was commonly used when time was an issue. Harry learned that a transfiguration grew more and more difficult the bigger, the more complex and the more different the intended form was from the original person. That's why it was easier to transfigure a human into a dog than to turn him into a shark, because a shark was a fish, while a dog was a mammal like the human. Of course, this kind of transfiguration was totally different to becoming an Animagus, because only a small part of your consciousness remained active in your new body and normally you needed another person's help to return to your original state. To avoid any serious injuries while practising, Professor Diana placed a special ward in the classroom, which could terminate any transformation within seconds, no matter what, as long as the change had taken place within its area of effect. It was a tricky bit of magic and most people who tried to transform themselves or others considered it not necessary to take this precaution, because they thought they would succeed anyway.

The class' first task was to turn a partner into a mouse and back. Not even Hermione succeeded, proofing how difficult this branch of magic was. Professor Diana told them not to be overly discourage over this failure, practice would make perfect in almost everything in life. Then she assigned them to write her an essay on the proper way of transfiguring another human and dismissed the class. All in all Harry considered his new professor a very nice person and a great change from sometimes much too stern McGonagall and almost everyone of Hogwarts' male population shared this view, even though most of them were only blinded by their new teacher's beauty. Maybe this was also the reason why many girls were hesitating to like her. Even Hermione had made it clear that she could not understand why all the males were so enchanted with Professor Diana and Harry strongly suspected that she was a bit put out by Ron's strong reaction whenever he laid eyes on the blonde woman. Harry himself considered his new teacher a looker as well, but he was way too smart to get caught staring at another woman while dating Ginny.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, however, was nowhere as outspoken about himself as Professor Diana was and his presence at Hogwarts remained a mystery to Harry. He had been told that the Professor had transferred to Hogwarts, due to a nasty injury on his right leg, which rendered him temporarily unable to perform his normal Auror duties and Professor Shacklebolt told the class the same story. Even though the bald, black man made a big show of using a crane and scrunching up his face in pain, whenever he put weight on his supposedly injured right leg, Harry could not help wondering if the Auror's injury was only a clever trick played by McGonagall to get an Order member transferred to Hogwarts without revealing the close connection the school still had to the renegades. Maybe Shacklebolt was only cleverly pretending to be injured or he had purposely sustained the wound assuring his transfer to the school. In each case Harry made a mental note to keep an eye on the ex-Auror, pretty sure that he had orders to carefully watch Harry and his friends himself. Probably the Order was still longing for the information Harry had withheld on Dumbledore's orders and was now trying to gain them more subtly than before.

Professor Shacklebolt's lesson itself was surprisingly conservative. He taught them mainly how to deal with Voldemort's dark creature allies, starting with Dementors and ending with werewolves. Part of the curriculum they had already learned in the past years, but Shacklebolt spiced up the theory with his own experiences as an Auror and was a pool of helpful advice. However, he never mentioned learning how to properly duel with another witch or wizard and answered Seamus Finnigan's question about the subject simply by claiming that he were not allowed to teach them anything about this. Most of his classmates had been severely disappointed about their teacher's refusal to teach them how to duel, but Harry had already known that much due to McGonagall mentioning it in their little chat before the feast. Also the PFT was probably going to keep all of them well occupied despite the cancelling of Quidditch.

Speaking of Quidditch, the Christmas Ball McGonagall had organized as a substitute had definitely made an impact. Hogwarts' female population was all giggles and gossip, their excitement about the still far away ball apparently limitless. Even Hermione had claimed to look forward to it and Harry had the distinct impression that his best female friend's good mood was tied to another certain best friend who had obviously scooped up enough courage to ask her out. Ron's and Hermione's changed relationship was causing the Hogwarts' rumour mill to run a mile a minute and Harry had heard more than one completely ridiculous theories about how they had finally gotten their act together and had opted never to listen to them again after hearing one which involved both of them in a huge tub with lots of strawberry ice cream.

Harry's and Ginny's relationship was running smoothly, even though they had a lot less privacy and time in Hogwarts than during the summer in the Burrow. He had caught himself fantasying about Ginny during several classes and he had decided that they really needed some time alone. Also Harry had asked her to accompany him to the Bloody Ball – as Ron liked to call it – on their first day back at school. He had been early to avoid another disaster similar to the Yule Ball during his fourth year and of course she had said yes. However the many secrets Harry was still keeping from his girlfriend were weighting heavily on his conscience and he had been close several times to spill the beans and to tell her everything about the Prophecy and the Horcruxes, but had managed to fight down the urge, unwilling to put her in even more danger.

Also he had finally decided when to open Dumbledore's wood box. He was going to sneak into the Room of Requirements on the first Saturday back at school and would open it there together with Ron and Hermione. He knew that Ginny would be put out about not being allowed to join them, even though she had not uttered a single world about being displeased about the current arrangement when he had told the three of them. Harry knew that she wanted to help him winning the war, but in his opinion she was helping the most by staying out of danger and staying alive for him. If he ever lost her, he probably would not be able to continue fighting. She was the promise of a brighter future, his ticket to heaven and without her, he did not see any sense in surviving or even fighting at all.

- - - - -

The first Practical Fighting Techniques lesson was scheduled to take place on the first Wednesday evening of the school year. Every fifth, sixth and seventh year student had to attend this event and Ginny had been wondering all week where they were going to hold a lesson that big. She could not imagine using the Great Hall as a classroom and no other room in the castle would be nearly large enough. Harry mentioned the Room of Requirements as a possible place when she had talked with him about the upcoming lesson and he seemed to be right. After the regular last lesson of the day, which had been Transfiguration in Ginny's case, Professor Diana led them indeed to the Room of Requirements, where a thong of students were already queuing up to get in. Ginny looked for a unnatural mass of blonde hair, which indicated the seventh years these days, and quickly spotted Ron's horrible mix of red and blonde in the crowed. However, she could not see Harry's blonde head with ebony strands in the mass of moving people and she briefly wondered where her boyfriend was and what he had done to miss the beginning of the lesson. Harry's new hair colour had been the subject of more than a few jokes between him and her and Ginny knew that she by far preferred his usual ebony strands, but she could not help wondering if Slughorn's potion indeed changed _all_ hairs on his body and vowed to find out before it was returned to normal.

When it finally was Ginny's turn to enter the magical room, she gasped in astonishment. The interior of the Room of Requirements had adapted to what looked like an enormous, Greek amphitheatre. Rows and rows of benches towered over a large circular platform in the middle of the complex and Ginny suspected that this was where the teacher would be standing. The platform was brightly lit, causing flickering twilight to coat the rest of the room. She realized that it had been a clever idea to choose this room, because it would adapt to whatever needs of the teacher, like it had during the DA meetings. This way they would be able to practice almost everything, due to the necessary equipment or space could be conjured with a single thought. Whoever this new teacher was, he or she certainly knew Hogwarts very well, because the Room of Requirements was still everything but common knowledge.

As stepped through the door completely, Ginny spotted Ron and Hermione sitting on one of the benches close to the entrances and once again it had been Ron's shock of hair which had leaded her. She slipped into the seat next to them and placed her bag on the seat next to her to reserve it for Harry. Just as she wanted to ask her brother where his best mate had disappeared to, she spotted him in the crowed. He was standing next to McGonagall in a shady corner of the theatre, talking heatedly with her. Ginny wondered what on earth the two of them were talking about and why Harry was conversing with the headmistress only a few minutes before a new subject would be held for the first time. It did not really make sense, did it? However Ginny did not have much time to ponder this mystery, because all of the students had by now taken their seats and McGonagall ended her conversation with Harry and walked down the stairs to the circular space which was the theatre's middle. Ginny had expected Harry to take a seat then, but he kept standing in the shadowy corner and she thought she could see a scowl on his face.

"Good evening." said the headmistress, her voice magically amplified by the magical room. "Welcome to the very first lesson of Practical Fighting Techniques. Due to some legal issues it was very hard to find someone qualified to do the job and the teacher who is about to held this lesson wants me to make it absolutely clear that he would rather not teach this subject and is only doing it because I talked him into it. Despite his current bad mood, I am certain that he will be a great teacher, because he had shown the necessary qualities in the past and has more than enough experience in fighting the Dark Arts. I will leave the rest of the explaining to him and I do hope that it will be an enjoyable lesson."

Ginny barely had the time to ponder why the new teacher would possibly want McGonagall to point out these facts, because in precisely that moment, Harry stepped out of the shadows and unto the centre.

- - - - -

Harry could not believe that he had been foolish enough to agree to this. The moment he had left the shadows and stepped unto the circular expanse in the middle of the amphitheatre he could feel the unbelieving stares of his fellow students. He knew that some of them were scowling, interpreting his presence as an attempt to become even more famous and as another change to play the hero. They could not have been more wrong. No, Harry did not enjoy this at all, in fact every instinct in his body screamed at him to get the hell out of the room and let McGonagall stewing in this mess. This was completely different to the DA. There, all the students had been there voluntarily and were not dragged to the lesson under the pretence of getting taught by a real teacher. He should have never agreed to this in the first place, but McGonagall had been playing dirty. While he prepared what he was going to say, Harry thought back to the certain part of his meeting with the headmistress, which had caused him to stand here in this very room.

- - - - -

It had started innocent enough. McGonagall had given Harry the chest they had discovered in a box in Dumbledore's Gringrotts vault together with a letter explaining that it had to be given to him and that only he would be able to open it. He had been more than a bit curious about the mysterious wooden chest and had expected the meeting to be over then. As he was carefully examining it, the headmistress spoke up again.

"Potter, what do you know about educational law?"

"I am afraid nothing, prof – headmistress." replied Harry, his brows furrowed in confusion while he pondered why on earth McGonagall was keen on discussing legal issues with him now. There was a bloody war going on and she wanted to talk about the law? "Is there something I should know about?"

"Yes, I think so." answered his old teacher briskly. "You might have asked yourself in the past why you were never told how to properly duel in this school, except for the ridiculous duel club Professor Lockhart tried to start in your second year."

Harry raked his brain for a moment and realized that she had been right. Not even the impostor Mad-Eye had ever taught them how to fight. Almost everything Harry had learned on the subject he had either learned by watching others or had taught it himself, for example as preparation for the last task of the Triwizarding Tournament. Anger welled up in him as he realized how unprepared he and his fellow students were and there was more than a hint of accusation in his voice as he spoke up again. "I never realized it until now, but you are right! Why don't we learn something which actually helps us to survive, especially now with the second war going on?"

"Politics, Potter, politics." said McGonagall, untouched by his accusing tone. "Until the first war it was common to teach all the students at least the basics of duelling, rendering them able to defend themselves. After You-Know-Who's fall, the Ministry considered it proven that the knowledge about fighting taught at Hogwarts had been utilized by most Death Eaters during the war and therefore removed duelling from the curriculum. Starting from this moment, teachers were only allowed to teach their students the Disarming Charm and it was strictly prohibited to show them anything more dangerous or effective."

"Okay, but surely they have abandoned this rule by now." replied Harry, sure that not even the Ministry could be that stupid to keep this law in place with a civil war brewing in the country. "I mean with the war going on they are going to need any helping hands so it would be prudent to teach all trustworthy students how to fight properly."

"For someone who has seen so much, you can be surprisingly naïve, Potter." returned the headmistress, her sharp eyes boring into Harry's. "The Ministry is not going to grant the school any more competencies, because they don't want to lose any more control over the country. They want to create the impression that everything is alright and that they are force to be reckoned with. They are not going to change the law, because this transfer of power would make them appear overwhelmed and they do not want to appear weak."

"That's stupid, but it does make sense." said Harry, his anger replaced with the familiar feeling of frustration he usually felt when talking about the Ministry. "Well, if the situation is that hopeless, why are you telling me about this at all? I mean, what am I supposed to do?"

"Well Potter, there is indeed something you could do." answered the headmistress, her lips actually forming a smile. "There is a little loophole in the law. It only prohibits _teachers_ to teach the students how to fight, but it does not prohibit _students_ to teach other students. Of course it is hard to find a sufficiently qualified pupil to actually teach, but I am sure that you are up to the job."

"Hang on." replied Harry, his brain slowly digesting would McGonagall had just said. "You want me to teach all the students how to fight Voldemort and his Death Eaters?"

"Not the whole school, only from fifth year up." answered the headmistress calmly. "I doubt that the war will be going on for so long that the smaller students will have to learn how to defend themselves too. I had thought this Wednesday evening as a good date for the first meeting, are you free that evening?"

Harry could not believe his ears. McGonagall had called him into her office to talk him into teaching some super DA variant and she had not even asked him if he wanted to before setting the first date on Wednesday, which was only two days away. Blast her, who on earth did she think she was? Was he some kind of tool everyone could use for his or her own pleasure? The Ministry wanted him to be their bloody mascot and McGonagall to be a pseudo teacher, who did what she should have been doing all along, but did not have the guts to do. How was next in line, Voldemort? No, he was definitely not going to accept this!

"Forget it." replied Harry, his voice as calm as he could muster, despite the burning fury pumping through his veins. "I have got enough on my plate and I am not going to be your clown in front of a thong of students who have either been too stupid or too lazy to learn how to defend themselves. I am not anybody's tool and you should forget about this rubbish as quickly as possible, Good Bye!"

Originally Harry wanted to storm out of the office and slam the door behind him but before he could do so, the headmistress stern voice called him again. Six years of being her pupil caused him to freeze immediately.

"Potter, I can understand that you are a busy man and I know that you hate being the centre of attention. But this is not about you or me; this is about all the other pupils out there who have never ever learned how to defend themselves. Do you think being a part of Dumbledore's Army is enough to battle a Death Eater? I don't. And do you think its fair to punish everyone who was not brave enough to join your little Defence group in your fifth year, just because they acted like they have learned to do all their life? If Hogwarts was attacked and even only one student died, would you still consider your decision not to teach correct? Could you watch yourself in a mirror in the morning without blaming yourself? I know that I am asking for a lot, but if you don't want to do it for me or for your fellow students, then do it for Miss Granger, Mr. and Miss Weasley. You are trying to keep them out of the war, I assume, but what happens if the war finds them? Do you think their experience will be enough? Are you willing to risk their lives, just because you don't want to teach?"

The image of Ron, Hermione and Ginny lying cold and lifeless on the floor of one of Hogwarts' various corridors, with Snape standing above them, a vicious sneer plastered on his face, popped into Harry's mind and for a moment he had to fight a wave of nausea which threatened to overwhelm him at the thought. He knew that the headmistress was fighting dirty and that he should still say no, but even the slightest possibility of losing Ginny was more than he could bear.

"I will do it." he said, cursing himself at the same moment as the words left his mouth.

- - - - -

"Welcome to the first lesson of Practical Fighting Techniques." heard Harry himself say, not able to believe how businesslike his voice sounded. He sounded like a bloody teacher! "Before I begin with what you are going to learn, I want to make it perfectly clear why I am here and what you are should consider before decided to further take this subject." The Room of Requirements was so silent that you could have heard a needle falling to the ground and Harry knew that for now he had the class' undivided attention. He had to make sure that they understood that he was not teaching because he liked to, but to do them a favour by showing them how to stay alive. He would rather use the time spent with the PFT to train himself, knowing that every minute he spent preparing could make a difference in the end.

"I am NOT here because I want to." continued Harry, his voice firm. "In fact when the headmistress asked me to teach this lesson, I wanted to storm out of her office. I nearly did, but she convinced me in the last minute and that is why I am here. You should know that I have better things to do than to play your clown on a Wednesday evening and that is why I expect everyone who is going to take this lesson to give his or her very best, just sixty or so percent won't to it here! I am offering you a chance to learn how to properly defend yourselves and you family and you can either take it or leave it. In fact the less of you decided to stay the better, because teaching will be way easier with a small group."

"There is a war going on and every one of us has to pick sides or to leave the country. I don't know about you, but I am definitely not going to let Voldemort get away with everything he has done, but I can't defeat his whole army on my own. I am going to need help and the Ministry has been rather unenthusiastic to actually join combat with his goons. I am not begging you to learn how to fight, but it really could come in handy, when a band of Death Eaters are knocking on your door. If you choose to stay then keep in mind that this is not going to be similar to the DA. We are going to deal with more advanced stuff and I am not going to teach the basics again. If you don't know how to cast a stunning Spell, then ask someone who can to teach you. There are a lot of former DA members who are surely going to help you out."

"So, ladies and gentlemen, pick your sides. If you want to help the light winning the war, then stay, if you want to leave the fighting to someone else then leave and hide and if you want to join Voldemort – well, then you should better leave, because I will find out if you are only here to learn how to be a good Death Eater and I won't be amused when I find out the truth. Any questions so far?"

At first nothing happened. Most students were still awe struck by Harry's speech, some looked positively terrified at the thought of getting taught by him and others looked completely ecstatic. Especially Hermione was beaming like mad, apparently as eager as ever to learn something new. Some of the Slytherins were casting dark looks at Harry and he guessed that his little bluff of being able to find any traitors had indeed worked. Sometimes it had its benefits to be the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. Then the other students had digested his question and several hands shot up at once. Harry recognized Neville's and allowed him to ask the first question.

"What exactly are you going to teach us, Harry?" asked the round-faced boy. "Will we really be able to handle Death Eaters all by ourselves?"

"Well, I am not going to teach you how to block an Avada Kedavra or teach you how to fly without any help, because it just is not possible, but I think I can be helpful anyway." replied Harry. "There is not _the_ way to fight a Death Eater and there is not some kind of universal strategy Voldemort and his goons use every time. Therefore it is nearly impossible to show you a way to dispatch every Death Eater you will encounter. There is not _the _secret in fighting, there are a lot of small secrets which combined may give you the upper edge in a fight."

"And – um – what exactly does that mean?" said Neville, clearly not really understanding what Harry had said.

"It means that I will show you a lot of different things." answered Harry, a smile tugging at his lips. "Some spells to deceive your opponent, some to fight him or her and some to escape when things are going to get nasty. Also we will spend a lot of time with general combat strategies, so you will know what to do when Death Eaters have captured one of your friends or when it is best to flee."

"And how on earth do you know how to handle all that situations?" asked Zacharias Smith, not bothering to raise his hand or to be polite.

"That's not important." replied Harry, fighting down his irritation. "You can either believe that I am capable of teaching you or you don't and it's your decision what matters not my sources. I am not going to demonstrate anything to you just to make you decide to be my pupil, as I said before; I have better things to do. Let's call it my first little test. You will have to choose and everyone who wants to learn will find me here after dinner on next Wednesday. Good evening."

With theses words Harry left the Room of Requirements, the buzzing of the gossiping students still ringing in his ears.

- - - - -

There were two of them, young, drunk and Muggle. Easy prey. Hidden in the shadows in one of London's poorer area's side streets, David Ocean watched his soon to be victims. They were two teenage guys, no older than sixteen, who were staggering down the road, obviously after having drunken themselves silly somewhere despite their young age. One of the was stocky and short, with long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, while the other was as thin as a toothpick and had short cropped brown hair. The slim one was carrying a bottle of beer in one of his hands and supported his friend with his other one. Of course his aid was useless, because he himself was unable to walk straight, but it was a nice gesture anyway. In each case they prevented Ocean from coming home completely empty-handed. As he had been told, he had been searching for Draco bloody Malfoy for the last few months, but so far had been unsuccessful. He had lost count of all the third class hotels he had searched, Muggle and magical ones alike, but always he had arrived too late to capture the insolent whelp and it was frustrating to say the least.

Ocean was very sure that someone was helping the Malfoy boy to elude capture and he guessed that it was Snape who did so. There were rumours circulating around about an Unbreakable Vow Snape had sworn to protect the Death Eater wannabe, but Snape had never struck Ocean as that stupid, so he had always considered the rumours mindless chatter. But now he had his doubts and the fact that Severus Snape was very interested in how the search for Draco was going, only fuelled his suspicions. Maybe he was being paranoid and Snape only took interest in the boy's fate because the Dark Lord considered it important, but he made a mental note to talk with his master after he had returned back to base. But now, he had some _fuel_ – he shuddered at the word – to provide.

As quickly as a snake striking, he slipped out of the shadowed alley and drew his wand at the same time. Before any of the youth's alcohol fogged brains had any time to register what was happening, he had already fired a wordless stunning charm, sending one of them to the ground. The other one followed swiftly, not even having the time to scream in surprise before he joined his comrade on the cold ground. Ocean walked over to the two fallen boys, a flicker of light from a nearby streetlamp falling on his handsome, aristocratic face, as he bent over their sprawled out forms. Poor bastards. They reminded him of himself in a strange way, stumbling into trouble, because of their youthful recklessness and naïveté. Well, it was not healthy to dwell in the past, especially if you had to concentrate on staying alive in the present and your number of options was as limited as his. With a small sigh, he magically shackled the two drunks, before casting a useful charm he had learned ages ago. There was no need to let them feel the pain, after all. Then he grabbed the two of them and Disapparated.


	9. The Fortress of Woe

a/n: Alright folks, here comes the next chapter. It is huge and it is hot and really hope that you will enjoy it. Be careful, very mild bondage ahead, so you better don't read a few paragraphs if this offends you. Oh and don't worry you Ron/Hermione fans, the two of them will definitely have sex in this story, maybe around Christmas… well, anyway on with the story!

Harry was running terribly late. He had missed breakfast and was now dashing along the corridors to still be in time for this first lesson of the day, which happened to be Transfiguration. He did not know why he was hurrying in the first place, Professor Diana would take points from Gryffindor anyway, because the essay he was supposed to be turning in today was lying next to his bag in his dormitory in the Gryffindor tower, but maybe if he arrived at the last minute she would at least see that he had been trying. For the millionth time today, Harry cursed himself for oversleeping.

However, luck was at least partly on his side today, because as he rounded around a corner, still two corridors and one flight of stairs away from his Transfiguration classroom, he spotted Ron's red-blonde shock of hair some way ahead and his best friend seemed to be carrying both his and Harry's bag.

"Ron, wait up!" shouted Harry and was glad that Ron froze immediately. He would not had any breath left to call a second time. A minute later, he was standing next to the lanky redhead, gasping for breath.

"Seriously mate, what on earth happened?" Ron asked his best mate. "Hermione and I were worrying about you missing breakfast, so I decided to look for you in the dormitory. You weren't there, but your bag was, so I thought I should take it with me, just in case you had forgotten it. Well, looks that I was right."

"Thanks, Ron." answered Harry after having regained at least a bit of breath. "I overslept and barely had enough time to get dressed, before having to leave for Transfiguration. I wanted to talk to Diana first and then get my bag, but fortunately you have brought it along. I assume that you have my essay with you too?"

"Yep." replied Ron, producing a roll of parchment out of one of his robe pockets. "It may be crumbled, but its okay. So you overslept, huh? Funny, your bed in the dorm was untouched."

"Um, yeah, I slept in the Room of Requirements." said Harry, fighting the blush that was slowly creeping over his face. Ron was obviously suspecting something and he had to be careful now.

"How come?" asked Ron, his eyes narrowed. "What exactly happened after Hermione and I left?"

"You mean after Ginny, Hermione and you followed me after I left the Room of Requirements, dragged me into an unused classroom and bombarded me with questions?"

"Yeah, after that."

"Um, well as you may remember I told the three of you of the conversation I had with McGonagall and gave you some vague information about what I am going to teach you. Afterwards you and Hermione left and Ginny wanted to spend some time with me alone, so we returned to the Room of Requirements to talk about some things."

"And what exactly did you talk about?" asked Ron, his voice dangerously low.

"Honestly Ron!" cried Harry, deciding that a part of the truth would be more effective than a bad lie. "Do you really want me to tell you about snogging your sister?"

"God, no." answered his best mate, his face scrunched up in disgust. "I am seeing more of that than I really want so don't start talking about it. If that was everything that happened, then I am okay with it. But that still does not really explain why you overslept."

"I started to plan the next PFT lessons and lost track of time" said Harry, which was partly true, he had thought about the next lesson yesterday evening – for about thirty seconds.

"Fine, then let's go." replied Ron, his tone once again light and cheerful. "Sorry for being the annoying bigger brother, but I really don't want my innocent sister to get corrupted at her young age."

Harry nearly had to physically restrain himself from snorting out loud at Ron's words – Ginny was by no means innocent, but if believing so allowed Ron to sleep at night, well then he was not going to correct him. Harry could still remember vividly how things had started yesterday night and Ron's comment caused the memories to resurface.

- - - - -

It had been Ginny's idea to return to the now surely empty Room of Requirements to have a little private talk – as she had called it – and Harry was not naïve enough not to know what she was really suggesting. However he would have never guessed how passionate the evening was going to be. He had entered the room behind her and found it bare except for a four poster bed, which happened to be an exact replica of the one in his dormitory and lots of burning candles on the floor, shrouding the room in flickering twilight. With a mischievous grin on her face, Ginny took hold of his hand and gently pulled her towards the bed. Her normally chocolate coloured eyes were shining in a dozen colours in the candlelight and Harry wondered how different the rest of her body would look. The evening was definitely getting better.

After carefully stepping through the waves of candles, which formed a jagged semicircle around the bed, Ginny stopped in front of it and reversed their positions so that Harry was standing with his back to the four poster. She took a small step backwards and just as Harry was about to ask her what exactly she was planning, she pushed him, causing him to overbalance and to land spread-eagled on the silken bedclothes. Just as he had recovered to enough to ask her what the heck she was doing, she had already whipped out her wand and cast two spells. Harry felt his own wand flying out of his robe pocket at the same moment as four silken ropes appeared out of thin air, slipped under his clothing and snaked themselves around his wrists and ankles, tying him to the four bed posts. Acting completely on instinct, Harry tried to wiggle free of his new found shackles, tugging at them with all his might. His efforts were, however, useless, the thin bands of silk binding him to the bed were very soft, probably to prevent him from hurting himself while trying to break free, but as strong as steel.

"Don't try to break free, Harry." said Ginny, apparently amused at his attempts. "Honestly, the way you are struggling, you seem to be expecting me to torture you! These shackles are unbreakable and are only here to increase the fun. All you have to do is to lay back and to enjoy what I have prepared for you."

Harry stopped struggling and managed to nod, not at all surprised to see the familiar mischievous sparkle in his girlfriend's eyes. He could not help wondering what she had planned and the thought of being tied to this bed seemed more inviting them a few heartbeats before. As Ginny started to undo the clasp holding her robes, the evening grew even better.

"Remember the conversation we had in bed after getting back together?" she asked as her robe fell to the floor, forming a pool of fabric around her feet, exposing the jeans and the tight black t-shirt, she was wearing underneath. "The one about you doing all the work while we are having sex?"

Harry groaned inwardly, not believing that she had taken his joke seriously. But why on earth was she talking to him about this now, after almost two months? And what on earth did she plan to do on this very evening that was connected to this statement? Well, Harry did have a few ideas, but he did not see any point beyond the obvious to do so.

"Well, judging by the look of your face, you certainly do." chuckled Ginny, while she reached down to undo her shoes and socks. "And you also seemed to be a bit confused, so allow me to enlighten you. Today, I am going to do all the work and you will be the one lying there. I tied you up to ensure that you don't break this little rule and it also spiced up the whole evening, don't you think so?"

So she was going to shag him, while he was tied to bedposts on silken sheets? Oh, yeah Harry definitely considered this evening spiced up and his brain was alight with a thousand naughty things he wanted Ginny to do to him. He was hard in an instant. His excitement must have shown on his face, because Ginny giggled and beamed at him, while starting to undress. Tantalizingly slow she removed every scrap of fabric on her athletic body, making sure that Harry had a good view of her at all times. She started with her t-shirt, pulling it over her head to expose the pearl white bra she was wearing underneath. Feeling Harry's burning gaze on her chest, she unclasped it and was pleased to her him growl throatily as he took in her bare torso. Grinning, she slipped out of her tight blue jeans, pulling her knickers of in the same process and extracted her wand out of the discarded jeans' back pocket. Ginny pulled off Harry's shoes and socks, before crawled unto the bed, her nubile body rubbing against his.

God, she was beautiful! Harry could not take his eyes of his girlfriend's body, mesmerized at how different she looked in the candlelight. Her fiery hair was awash in a thousand different shades of red, starting at strawberry blonde and ending in a red so dark that it could be mistaken for black. Small patches of shadow were shrouding her whole body, shifting every time the candle flames were moved by a breeze, giving her an oddly exotic look. A tiny part of Harry's mind considered it odd that there was wind in a closed room, but it did not really matter at the moment, did it? However the part of her which fascinated Harry the most, were her eyes, which were still shining in dozens of colour and were looking at him so intensely that it was almost impossible to look away. Their twinkle promised a thousand naughty things and Harry could not wait for the restricting clothes to come off, so he could find out what exactly Ginny had prepared for him.

The redhead moved on the bed until she was eye to eye with Harry, holding her wand casually in her right hand. Her silken locks fell into Harry's face, tickling him and making him wish to be able to run a hand through them. Subconsciously, he tried to wiggle free again, but stopped, when Ginny reached out to gently cup his cheek. It was odd, so casual a touch but nevertheless it caused a tingle to run down Harry's spine and into his nether regions and he nearly moaned out loud.

"Impatient, are we Harry?" asked the vixen on top of him. "Do you want me to start taking care of you?"

Harry was still way to affected from her touch to utter a single word, so he only nodded and hoped that it would be enough.

It was enough.

Smiling, Ginny raised her wand and pointed it at Harry's chest, uttering a single world under her breath. Harry was startled at first when his robe disappeared into thin air, just to appear neatly stacked next to the bed, but then he remembered her using a similar spell at the first time they had made love. She repeated the spell and the polo shirt he had been wearing under his school robes disappeared together with his undershirt. After glazing approvingly at his bare chest, Ginny leaned in to kiss her, her breasts brushing against his chest as she did so. Harry could not remember another moment that erotic. Ginny familiar taste of strawberries and chocolate filled his mouth and the feeling of her bare skin on his chest combined with the fact that he was completely at her mercy drove him to the brink of madness. He was already so close to coming and she had not even done anything then kissing him yet.

Ginny must have been able to feel how excited he was, but she chose not to comment on his current condition. Instead, she abandoned his hot and eager mouth and started to place kisses along his jaw and down his neck, before placing a love bite on his pulse point. Harry knew that he would be marked on the next morning, but he honestly could care less at moment. His neck had always been very sensitive, but in his current state of arousal Ginny's ministrations were the sweetest possible form of torture. The fire in his mind was burning higher and higher and he knew that it was not enough. He needed more! He needed to feel every inch of her bare skin pressed tightly against his own. He needed to taste every part of her. He needed to feel her squirming beneath him. He needed to feel her tight, wet walls around his cock, while their tongues danced. He needed all of it and he needed it now!

"Ginny, please…" he managed to gasp, before moaning again as the nubile redhead started to lick her way down his chest. She paused and locked eyes with him, a seductive grin on her face, before bringing her mouth close to his right ear.

"Don't worry Harry." she whispered and it sounded more like a purr. "I will hurry up, but try not to come till I have, alright?"

At first Harry wanted to protest; there was no way he was going to keep himself from coming if she kept up her current actions. To make matters even worse, even the thought of her riding him in this helpless condition, sent him to the brink of release and he knew that the actual sensation would be a thousand times better. But then he scooped up the tiny rest of his male pride and summoned the strength to nod. He was not going to come first; he had never done so in the past after all! It was going to be easy, he had proven in the past that he had more than enough willpower, had not he? So, holding back for a while could not be so hard, right?

Apparently please at his attempts to control himself, Ginny returned to licking his chest, sucking on each nipple until it hardened in her mouth. By the time she abandoned them and crept even lower, Harry was already gnashing his teeth together in concentration, trying to think of anything else than his beautiful girlfriend doing naughty things to him. He wondered if Ginny was as affected from this little game as he was and he certainly hoped so, because it would make it a lot easier for him to last.

Ginny briefly sucked on his bellybutton, before pausing to examine the small patch of hair creeping into his jeans. Normally, it was as black as the rest of his hair, but now it was blonde with a few stray black hairs in it. She smiled at having found out that Slughorn's potion did indeed affect all of the drinker's hair. Ginny never would have believed how erotic it was to be in charge and to have a person trusting you so much to allow you this kind of control. It was exhilarating as it was arousing and already Ginny knew that she was dripping wet with need. She hoped that Harry would last for the thought of not getting shagged tonight was almost unbearable at the moment. To minimize the risk, she decided to get a move on. Snatching her wand, which she had laid down on the bed, she pointed it on Harry's jeans and muttered the now familiar spell once again. The trick was to think of which clothes you wanted to disappear and Ginny was done with waiting. She wished for Harry's jeans and boxers to vanish.

The moment Ginny had grabbed her wand, Harry had already suspected that this would happen. Within a heartbeat, all of his remaining clothes disappeared and the sudden contact of burning flesh on burning flesh was mind numbing. His throbbing cock, finally freed from his way too tight confinements was pressing against Ginny's belly right below her breast, its tip slick with precum and an electric bolt passed through Harry's body, as he felt his most sensitive skin rubbing against his girlfriend's. A smile appeared in Ginny's face as her gaze locked on Harry' condition. With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she slowly slid down his body, until her mouth was on the same height as Harry's member. She was not going to do that, was she? Harry was not sure if he would survive a blowjob in his current state, but before he had any chance to protest, Ginny licked lazily about his purple cockhead, driving all thoughts about protesting from his mind. He started to squirm as she sucked him into her volcanic mouth, torn between the chance to get the release she offer and his male pride commanding him to make her come first. Fortunately for him, Ginny seemed to have sensed his conflict, because she sucked way slower and more gently than she usual did, apparently determined not to let him come yet.

Despite her efforts, Harry would have lost it with ten seconds anyway, had she not stopped her ministrations when she felt him twitching dangerously in his mouth. Harry was both greatly disappointed and greatly relieved at her removing him from her hot and deliciously wet mouth. He had been so close to coming and now his body was burning with need and his breathing was ragged from the efforts of holding back, making him wish that she had allowed him to find release. On the other hand, he was glad that she had not done so, because it probably would have seriously bruised his ego if he had not been able to continue after coming. In each case he definitely needed some time to recover.

"Well Harry, I think both of us could do with a little pause." said Ginny and suddenly Harry realized how aroused she was. Her skin was flushed, her nipples peaked and as she accidentally or purposely brushed her body against his, he could feel how wet she was. He could not wait to have her, he needed her now! Waiting would not do him any good after finding out that she was as affected as he was, all he would do in the pause they had agreed upon was to stare at her beautiful body, which would not help him to calm down at all. Scooping up his willpower to make his fogged brain form a sentence, which actually made sense, he spoke up.

"Ginny." he said and was surprised at how pleading it sounded. "Please let me have you!"

Without even bothering to reply, Ginny crawled a bit forward and took hold of his cock, guiding it with her centre as she sat down on Harry. It took every ounce of Harry's willpower not to come in the moment her hot and soaking wet pink flesh enclosed his penis, but somehow he managed to. He even succeeded in holding back as she started to move up and done, creating delicious friction on his engorged manhood. To make matters even worse, she started to rub her clit and locked eyes with him, while riding him. Harry could not have imagined anything more erotic and he knew that it was over as he saw her pleasuring herself while shagging him, her chocolate eyes dark with lust and pleasure boring into his. He could not help it, he came. The orgasm was so powerful it turned all of his body into jelly, while his brain was turned aflame with pleasure and he could not help to scream her name as he experience the sensation. Much to his surprise, Ginny followed him over the edge only a few seconds later, but Harry was surely grateful for it. For a while they continued moving, riding on their mutual waves of pleasure. As soon as his orgasm was over, Harry felt an enormous fatigue overcoming his body. He was asleep within seconds.

- - - - -

"Hey mate, are you coming or what?"

Ron's shout caused Harry to snap out of his daze and he hurried along to catch up wit his best mate, hoping that he would never have to tell his best mate about the night he had just shared with his sister. He was now more than five minutes late, but his brain was way too preoccupied with last night's events to mind much.

- - - - -

"Alright, here we go." said Harry, trying to push the wooden chest's lid open, after having cancelled the Shrinking Spell cast on the box, returning it to his original roughly shoe carton sized dimension. It was Saturday afternoon and he was sitting in the Room of Requirements together with Ron and Hermione. The three of them were sitting in comfortable wooden armchairs and were hunched over a round table, on which Dumbledore's chest was resting. To Harry's surprise the box swung open immediately obviously somehow recognizing him. Inside, laid a rolled cloth which seemed to be made of black velvet, a small circular bowl and a piece of parchment. Harry thought he could see some runes inscribed in the bowl, but decided to take a look at the cloth first.

He extracted it from the box and unrolled it, revealing the twenty or so small bottles, which had been cushioned in it. The bottle's contented seemed to be colour coded, for most of them were blue, one green and one bright red. Not really sure what to make of them, Harry picked up the piece of parchment and just wanted to start reading as Hermione gave a startled cry.

"Harry, it's a shrunken Pensive!" she cried, pointing at what Harry had mistaken for a small bowl. "Here have a look at it!"

Carefully examining the small bowl Hermione had placed into his hand, Harry realized that she was right. It was indeed a Pensive, possibly shrunken to fit into the box. But why would Dumbledore wanted to give him a Pensive? Yeah, it could come handy and was a nice gesture, but how would it make him win the war? Then he had an idea.

"If this is a Pensive then there probably are…"

"…memories in these bottles, yeah mate." finished Ron, a look of excitement on his face. "Maybe Dumbledore put some of the things he showed you last year in them, you know to allow you to access them again should it be necessary."

"We will find about that soon enough." replied Harry and started reading the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_When you are reading this letter, it is likely that I have met my mature or premature demise. To allow you to continue your task, while I am starting my new adventure, I have filled this box with an abundance of knowledge you may find useful. I assume that you still now how to use a Pensive, so feel free to use the enclosed one, after returning it to its original size, of course. The bottles included in the box contain memories and are colour coded to both of our convenience. The blue ones are filled with all memories about the young Tom Riddle, so that you can search for hints both of us have missed until now. The green bottle contains the memory of me destroying the Horcrux I found in the Gaunth's house. Maybe Tom has placed the same protective enchantments on all of his most prized possession, so knowing them may make your quest much easier._

_Now the red bottle is different to the others. It is a Thought Bottle, a very rare and very prized item, which allows you to store a certain part of you knowledge. If someone drinks out of one of these bottles, he or she will be immediately ingrained with whatever wisdom has been stored in the device. I filled it with the knowledge how to disenchant an Horcrux, because it is a rather complicated process and books dealing with the issue are most often imprecisely written, not to mention really hard to come by. Maybe you are currently asking yourself why you are going to need this knowledge, if you managed to destroy the diary without it. Well, I admit that I do not really know why you were able to do so. Maybe Tom forgot or was not able to place an Indestructibility Charm on the book and therefore rendered you able to destroy the item carrying the Horcrux, which resulted in the annihilation of the enclosed piece of soul. Maybe basilisk fangs have the unique power to destroy Horcruxes on touch or maybe you destroyed it with a subconscious wave of power. As I said above I do not really know, but it is save to say that the spell stored in the Thought Bottle will destroy every Horcrux you encounter._

_Good luck Harry, use this final help I am able to give you well and make the world a more peaceful place._

_Yours sincerely_

_Albus Dumbledore, former headmaster of Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft_

Harry felt the pain of his mentor's death flare again after having read the letter and for a moment he thought he could feel tears threatening to fall. Taking a deep breath, he fought down the notion; after all he could grief later, when the whole bloody war was over. Now, he needed to prepare himself. And the information Dumbledore had left him would be useful indeed.

"I can't believe that Dumbledore has created a Thought Bottle." said Hermione, her eyes filled with the light of excitement she always got when encountering something fascinating. "These are incredibly hard to make, but the effect is worth it! Imaging learning everything within a heartbeat! Think of all the things we could have learned already if Hogwarts had a stock of these!

"Yeah, I am sure it would be fascinating." replied Ron dryly, causing Hermione to shoot him an evil glare. "Come on mate; drink it, before we have to endure another few hours of her gushing about all the possibilities."

At first Harry was not sure if he really wanted to try the Thought Bottle now, but as soon as he heard Hermione taking a deep breath, without doubt to reprimand Ron for his lack of enthusiasm, Harry decided that drinking the potion or whatever was in the bottle, was far better than having to endure another argument between his two best friends. Honestly, these two had the most bizarre mating ritual he had ever seen!

He grabbed the red bottle containing the knowledge from the table, uncorked it and brought it to his lips. Harry had expected liquid to gush down his throat, but instead a bolt of energy shot through Harry's whole body. The unexpected feeling caused him to yelp in surprise, but before he had the chance to doing anything else the most intense headache he had ever felt overcame him. His head was pounding as though it was going to explode any moment and Harry thought that this was probably how a balloon felt like a split second before bursting. The pain reached a crescendo and Harry fell to the floor clutching at his head. As quickly as it had begun it was over.

"Are you alright mate?" asked Ron, helping him off the floor. Apparently his two friends had stopped bickering as soon as he had taken the potion.

"I think so." said Harry, as a thought popped into his head. "I know how to destroy a Horcrux!"

- - - - -

"So you have returned." said Harry, his magically amplified voice filling the amphitheatre in the Room of Requirements. It was next weeks' Wednesday and the first real Practical Fighting Techniques lesson was about to begin. Roughly a third of the students had returned to actually take the subject and they were unevenly divided on the four houses. Almost all of the Gryffindors and half of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had returned, but only one or two Slytherins had bothered to join them. Apparently the thought of getting taught by Harry Potter was unbearable to most members of the house or they were hesitant to join due to Harry promising to find Voldemort's supporters. In each case it was fine with Harry. The less students the easier it was to teach. It did not surprise him that all members of the DA which still attended school had decided to take the PFT lessons.

"Alright then." continued Harry, his gaze sweeping over the gathered students. "More of you have decided to take the subject than I had anticipated and even though our side could do with every helping hand in these troubled times, I am glad that we still are a pretty small number. This way it will be easier for my to help each of you should you have problems during the lesson. The small percentage of Slytherin students is not a big surprise either, the house still seems to be connected to Voldemort and his Death Eaters or they are smart enough to stay out of the fighting completely."

"So you are saying that fighting against You-Know-Who is stupid?" interrupted Zacharias Smith accusingly. Harry however was unfazed.

"Of course it is." he replied calmly. "If you are fighting the risk of dieing in the process is much higher than if you stay out of the war. Therefore it would be cleverer to either leave Britain or to go into hiding. That's the easy way out, but it is not the right one. I am by no means encouraging you to run away, no I want you to fight Voldemort to the death if it is necessary, but I think it is only fair to mention the other possible way. The right way is to try to stop this madman and his goons and while not everyone can do what's right I certainly will try to do the right thing. You can either join or you can save your own hide, I am not going to condemn you if you decided not to fight. But that's not why you are here. You are here to learn how to fight, so you can actually make a decision! Only very few of you have ever duelled with a Death Eater, most of you don't really now what a duel feels like at all. And that's what I am about to change! First question: why is duelling a Death Eater so dangerous?"

Various hands shot up in the air and Harry chose Parvati Patil to answer this question.

"Because they use the Unforgivables." said the black haired girl.

"So far, so good, but why are the Unforgivables so dangerous?" asked Harry. "I mean it is the same to get killed by a Cutting Charm hitting the throat or by an Avada Kedavra isn't it?"

"Well, you can't block an Avada Kedavra, but you can block a Cutting Charm." continued Parvati after thinking for a few moments.

"Exactly!" cried Harry. "That's why duelling with Voldemort or his goons is not like duelling with an enemy at school. Shield Charms are not that useful if they can't actually block a spell. So a single hit in a serious duel may already be deadly and what's what today's lesson will be about. I will need a volunteer to demonstrate this properly."

At first no one moved a muscle apparently all of them contemplating if he was going to really cast Unforgivables at them, but then Ginny's hand shot up in the air.

"I will do it." she said, no fear evident on her face. She knew that Harry would never ever hurt her and therefore was not at all concerned of something happening to her during the lesson.

"Very well, come down please." replied Harry, feeling a smile slip on his face at his girlfriend's loyalty.

"We are going to duel us." continued Harry, as soon as Ginny was standing next to him. "I will play the Death Eater and Ginny has to beat me. Of course I am not going to use Unforgivables against her, so let's pretend that all of my spells would be able to blast through a Shield Charm. That means as soon as I hit with a spell the fighting will be over for she would be dead if it had really been an Avada Kedavra. Therefore she will have to evade getting hit. Are you ready Ginny?"

"Sure." replied Ginny, a mischievous smile on her face. "You are so dead Potter!"

"We will see about that." answered Harry, smiling at her carefree nature despite the seriousness of the lesson. "We will start as soon as the countdown reaches zero."

Suddenly a large golden ten appeared in the air directly between the two soon to be combatants, created by the Room of Requirements automatically adapting to Harry's needs. It started counting down and speed towards the zero. It was ghostly silent in the room; every student's eyes were glued to the two persons standing on the circular platform in the amphitheatre's middle. As soon as the countdown hit zero, the spells started flying.

Ginny started with a Stunning Spells and followed with one of her famous Bat Bogey Hexes. Both her spells failed to penetrate Harry's hastily erected shield and he answered with two stunners fired with a little delay. One of them flew directly at Ginny, who had to dodge because of the spell was considered unblockable during the duel. She sidestepped to the left, as Harry had hoped, and thereby moved directly in front of the second spell. She screamed in surprise as she saw the Stunner flying towards her face, but managed to create a shield just in time to block the spell. Harry lowered his wands.

"You would be dead now Ginny, had this been an Unforgiveable:" he said quietly, but I was nevertheless heard in the whole room. He turned around and addressed all of the gathered students. "Well, why do you think I have shown you this?"

Ron's hand shot up in the air. "Because you wanted to show us that Shield Charms are not the answer to everything."

"Right." answered Harry. "Most wizards and witches rarely dodge spells, but often try to block them. Well, when fighting against Death Eaters Shield Charms are useless, because their preferred spells can bypass them. Therefore you have to change your tactic. You have got legs for a reason you know, use them! Staying immobile in battle means to lose and we are playing with very high stakes! Now be so kind and split into pairs and repeat the exercise I just did with Ginny. You will see that it requires a lot of endurance to fight for a while and you will discover that you are nowhere near a sufficient amount of stamina. I will observe you and point out what you are doing wrongly."

The class split into pairs and after only a few minutes of practicing Harry realized that he had been right to let his pupils do this particular exercise. Nearly all of them were duelling surprisingly well, but they were not used to physical exercises except for Quidditch and therefore tired very quickly. Harry suspected that the former DA members had taught the new members some tricks. After giving them the homework to practice, he dismissed the class and as he watched most of them streaming out of the door remembering his own training on the same day.

- - - - -

Like he had done for every day since last week's Tuesday, Harry had walked into the Room of Requirements wishing for a place where he could train. The room had adapted to this needs and formed a huge room filled with everything he might need while training. There was a large library to look up whatever defence spells he was going to need and a few comfortable chairs to read the books stored in them. A door had appeared on the left in the room and Harry knew that it would be leading to the magic resistant chamber designed to train spells with potentially disastrous power. In it a special damping field was active and all spells detonating within it would not be able to affect anything outside the field's area of effect. This way it was impossible to either damage the room or to damage yourself while practising. Harry had practiced the Starfire Charm during his first week back at Hogwarts and he had lost count how often the damping field had saved him already. This Charm created a small ball of raw, highly compressed magical energy, which extended to more than a thousandth of his original size when hitting a target. This explosion set free tremendous amounts of power, which incinerated everything in the area of effect. It was a spell designed to fight and to kill, because its high energetic structure rendered it very hard to block it with a Shield Charm and the splash damage made it possible to hit a moving target. The spell was not a difficult one, but knowing how much energy one should pour into it in which situation was tricky. Too much energy and you were going to die along with your enemy; too few and nothing would happen. Only a master could use this spell without damaging himself or his allies in combat and this was the reason why the spell despite its effectiveness had been almost forgotten over the years. Despite his efforts, Harry still poured way too much energy into his Starfire Charms, but at least the explosions were slowly getting smaller. Maybe within a month or so he would be able to properly do it.

The room also contained a small, but thick and soft carpet, surrounded by a circle of candles. Harry usually trained using the Focus Arkanum after having finished his workout, allowing his exhausted body some rest and the soft underground and the flickering light helped him to concentrate. He had made huge process in using this method of channelling his power and his new ability allowed him to cast spells way faster than ever before. Of course his spells tended to be weak when fired rapidly, but he was confident that he would be able to fix this with enough time.

However, neither the library, nor the spell testing chamber, nor the small place to train the Focus was the most important thing in the room. The most wondrous and important device was placed in the room's middle: a large round, featureless platform, where Harry was currently standing. He had been more than a bit surprised as he had found out for the first time what it did and how it was used and had thanked whomever had designed this wonderful room. He decided to start easy today.

"One." he said to the quiet room, his wand drawn and his eyes scanning the empty room for any signs of activity. The first attack came from behind. Harry felt the hairs on his neck tingle and therefore was able to react just in time. He dodged to the right and saw a red beam sizzling through the air a hand's breadth next to his head. Harry whirled around and came face to face with his attacker, a six feet tall humanoid without any facial features. It was impossible to see if it was male or female and it seemed to be made of granite. It was one of the room's training dummies and Harry had been lucky to evade the first dangerous beam.

The dummies were created by the room to help him training and could only fire two spells: red beams and yellow beams. Both spells did not really do anything, but only the yellow ones could be blocked by a Shield Charm. Also the dummy could raise a shield to protect itself from Harry's counterattacks. Harry would have to slip one spell through its defence to incapacitate it and it would be immediately replaced by another two of his kin. Every time Harry had defeated a wave a bigger groups of dummies would challenge him, either until he willed the exercise to end or until one spell slipped through his defence. It was difficult and tiring but even after only a week of practicing Harry felt his reflexes increase and his stamina building. The dummies were tough enemies and even a single one was still a challenge to Harry. Surprisingly agile for a construct, the dummy currently fighting him evade or blocked the volley of spells Harry had launched at it after turning around and was even able to return fire in the process.

Forced back into defence, Harry decided that a more creative attempt would be necessary. He had learned during his lesson that it was often necessary to outsmart and to surprise an even matched enemy to win the battle and he planned on doing just that again. He whispered a very useful spell under his breath, pointing his wand at the ground under his opponent's feet, turning it into quicksand. The sudden change of the ground under its feet caused the construct to overbalance and just as it started to tumble Harry's stunner hit home. It instantly disappeared only to be replaced by two others. Harry's grip on his wand tightened, he was determined to finally beat to of them at the same time.

- - - - -

Harry tiredly trudged up the stairs leading to the Gryffindor Tower. The weeks had flown by as soon as he had got settled into a rhythm and Halloween had already arrived. He was currently returning from another training session in the Room of Requirements and felt dead on his feet. Having already showered in the magical room, Harry's body was screaming at him to crawl into his warm bed and to sleep for a month. Unfortunately his stomach was also growling loudly and he would have to attend the feast, which would last at least two hours, if he wanted to get something to eat. Maybe he could sneak down to the kitchens and eat dinner there, but he would still need an explanation just in case someone noticed his absence and Harry did not believe for a second that it would be unnoticed. No, judging by the way McGonagall and the rest of the staff kept their eyes on him, they would be standing in the Gryffindor Tower to escort him to the feast if he was more than five minutes late. This behaviour unnerved Harry as much as it irritated him and he suddenly knew how it must feel to be on the run, like Sirius had been, having to fear every stranger's gaze. Sirius … R.A.B.! Damn! He should have noticed ages ago!

Harry whirled around and dashed down the stairs as fast as he could. How could he have been so stupid? R.A.B. was Regulus Arcturus Black, Sirius' brother, which had joined the Death Eaters only to be killed after he had quit working for Voldemort. He must have somehow learned of the Horcruxes and had apparently succeeded in stealing the locket and replacing it with a substitute. Maybe he had hoped to buy more the time for his hourglass by stealing the Horcrux or it had simply been a final act of defiance. And Harry knew exactly where Regulus had spent his last few hours. Sirius had once told him that his brother had returned to Grimmauld Place in the middle of the night and had left barely an hour later. He had not lived to see the sun rise on the next day. And that meant that the Horcrux was most likely still lying in Number 12, Grimmauld Place. It was only a matter of time before stumbled over it and either realized what it was or worse threw it away. He could not let that happen!

Fortunately he had everything he was going to need with him. He had his wand strapped to his wrist and he was still wearing the dragon armour he liked to train with under his robes. He could have asked Ron and Hermione to accompany him, but he had no intention to include them in the Horcrux hunt at all. Tonight one piece of Voldemort's black soul would die under his hands! Harry ran into the night, his face grim.

- - - - -

"Where the hell is he?" asked Ron, severely annoyed by his best friend's absence. They should have been down at the feast almost twenty minutes ago, but instead they had been searching for Harry, who had never returned to the common room from training, like he had promised to do. Their search had been futile and they had decided to give up and wait until he would return on his own.

"Language Ron." scolded Hermione. "Maybe his is outside and taking a flight."

"Without his broomstick?" asked Ginny. "The Firebolt is still in his dorm and not even Harry can take a flight without a bloody broom. I am getting worried; do you think something happened to him?"

"Well, maybe, but we don't really know." replied Hermione. "Listen, I can understand that you are worried about Harry, but maybe he just wants some time alone and went for a walk. I think we should wait for a few hours and alert McGonagall of his absence right now. Maybe she knows something about his whereabouts."

The three friends finally walked into the Great Hall and Hermione immediately reported the current situation to the headmistress, switching into full headgirl mode. As Ron had suspected, McGonagall seemed not to be overly concerned about his best mate, but it still slightly annoyed him that she could stay so nonchalant about it. Just as he turned to look at Ginny, wanting to verbally abuse his old Transfiguration teacher a bit, his gaze fell on the enchanted ceiling mimicking the sky outside. He saw a green pillar of light appearing on the nightly horizon and the sky turned from inky black to a bizarre mixture of green and black. Silence fell over the Great Hall as the other pupils and the teacher realized it as well. A few heartbeats passed without anyone moving at all, then the headmistress stood up and hurried out of the hall. Ron, Ginny and Hermione shared a look and followed her out into the night.

"What on earth is this?" asked McGonagall, just as the three pupils arrived, clearly speaking to herself. The whole sky was by now lit by the gigantic pillar, which was barely visible on the horizon, turning night into day. Ron did not know what was going on, but his gut instinct told him that it was not good.

"Looks like the Fortress of Woe has been summoned." stated the dry voice of the ghost teacher, Professor Binns from behind them.

- - - - -

Harry ran the fingers of his right hand over the cool, smooth metal of the locket placed in his left one. He was standing in one of Grimmauld Place's numerous libraries and had recovered the locket from a sealed wooden box hidden behind books dealing with veela poetry. It had taken him almost half an hour to locate it and he had been only able to do so because the Thought Bottle Dumbledore had left him had also contained the knowledge of a spell, allowing the caster to see magical auras. Despite the cleaning Harry had helped doing during his fifth year, the house was still littered with magical items and as soon as the spell had started working Harry had been temporarily blinded by the amount of vibrant colours around him. Harry knew that he was searching for a dim, grey aura, another piece of knowledge stored in his head by Dumbledore's Thought Bottle. He had picked a room at random and had started searching.

Now, Harry knew why Dumbledore had not found the locket during the summer Grimmauld Place had been the Order's headquarter. Some of the poetry books had been magical and their intense navy auras had masked the locket's subtler one. Harry had only stumbled about it because he had accidentally knocked some of the books from their shelves, thereby unmasking the Horcrux. Harry did not know whether Regulus had placed the books there to hide the locket or if it was only a coincidence, but he truly did not care at the moment.

The only thing that mattered was the piece of Voldemort's soul now lying in his hand. He could feel the magic throbbing within the trinket and he shivered despite the warmth of the room. He could feel the power promised by the Horcrux, why had he never thought about it before? All he had to do was to create a Horcrux of his own and Voldemort would not be able to kill him. He could turn the tables by destroy Riddle's immortality and making himself immortal. There were enough Death Eaters to be killed, so he only had to find out how to make one and decide which item he was going to use…

Suddenly, Harry came to his senses, repulsed at his own insidious thoughts. It was this damn Horcrux! Panicking, Harry whipped out his wand and quickly cast the incantation which would dispel the vile magical item. Much too quickly. The trinket exploded in his hand and Harry felt stabbing pain in his left hand and his chest before everything faded to black.

a/n: a knut for your thoughts…


	10. Unfinished Business

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked the headmistress, whirling around to face Binns. "What is the Fortress of Woe, who summoned it and why?"

Ginny was sure that her former Transfiguration teacher was going to completely exploded if Binns did not give her a proper answer within the next minute. Her mouth, which always shrunk to a thin line whenever she was angry, had almost completely disappeared and her eyes were flashing with a blend of irritation and full blown anger. Apparently the headmistress did not like to be withheld information. However, Professor Binns did not appear to be affected at all by her anger and Ginny doubted that he had even noticed it. The ghost teacher only cleared his throat like he often did in class and almost immediately launched an explanation in his drowsy, boring voice and Ginny had to forcefully remind herself that she had to pay attention, because Binns was for once not talking about Giant Wars or Goblin Rebellions.

"The Fortress of War is an ancient rumour which apparently contains a bit of truth." said Binns, pursing his lips at the word "rumour", obviously believing that it was way below his dignity to talk about something that vague. "According to some rather dubious sources, the Fortress was erected by the famous necromancer Necraal, who was defeated by Merlin a few years after creating the building. Necraal was an expert in raising the dead and in creating spells affecting another person's mind. His research about the influence of magic on the human will were the foundations for the Imperious Curse, the most powerful controlling spell ever created. Most people believed that the Fortress of Woe was nothing more then Necraal's sanctuary, but there are some indications pointing against the assumption. For one, Necraal did not vanish together with his Fortress, even though Merlin was hot on his heels. If the Fortress had only been a safe haven, the necromancer would have never endangered his well being to prevent Merlin from destroying it."

"Alright, let's assume for a moment that this pillar of light is indeed created by the Fortress of Woe." interrupted McGonagall. "What is the point in summoning it now of all times? Whatever was in the building is more than a thousand years old. Surely all knowledge this Necraal managed to collect is more than a bit out of date by now. Why would You-Know-Who waste valuable resources to restore an ancient building with no apparent value?"

"I am coming to this." replied Binns, sounding a bit irritated at getting interrupted, no doubt because it almost never happened in his class. "As I said before, Necraal was an expert at mind manipulating magic. According to the dubious sources I mentioned before, he created the Fortress to take over the country by enslaving all of the population's minds. Of course a spell that big would require enormous amounts of energy, but the necromancer is said to have found a solution for this problem shortly before his demise. He is believed to have constructed a device able to extract and to store a human being's energy and to transform the stolen vitality into raw magical power. When provided with enough victims there would be enough energy to power the mind enslaving spell, which is allegedly already prepared in the Fortress. Necraal is believed to have banished the Fortress to a save place and to have left a scroll filled with information how to return it, what obviously happened today. However there is no reason to panic. As I said, it is unknown if this device does exist and even if it does it has most likely been damaged over the years."

"But still Voldemort considered it worth the effort." said Hermione pensively. "What do we do now?"

McGonagall wheeled around and only now seemed to realize that she was not alone with the ghost teacher. She did not look pleased at all at Ron's, Hermione's and Ginny's presence. "The three of you go back to the Gryffindor Tower and there is no need in sharing the information you just witnessed. The Order will take care of this issue."

"I doubted that because no one had been able to actually find the Fortress of Woe unless brought there by Necraal himself." said Binns, as though this was merely a mildly interesting legend. "Good evening."

With these words he floated back into the castle and neither Ron, nor Hermione nor Ginny could remember seeing their former Transfiguration teacher's mouth so thin.

- - - - -

Pain was clouding Harry's mind as he slowly staggered to his feet. His whole left arm was on fire and he thought his chest was hurting as well, even though it was hard to say, thanks to the agony which pretended to be an arm. Blinking quickly for a few seconds, to clear his vision, Harry concentrated on ignoring the pain, so he could examine his injuries. He was more than a bit surprised as the pain lessened from almost unbearable to a tolerable level. His Occlumency training seemed to be having more benefits than he had thought. Pushing the thought away, Harry started to examine his body.

He was surprised to find out that the pain in his left arm was caused by almost two inches long metal splinter, which had obviously been part of the locket before it exploded, which had buried itself deeply into his left palm. Even though the sliver had completely penetrated his hand, the wound was not bleeding nearly as much as Harry had anticipated, but his instinct told him that this would change as soon as he removed the invading object. Not really sure what to do with this injury, Harry continued his search, deciding to look at the whole picture before making up his mind.

He found a lot of splinters sticking in the dragon armour protecting his chest and he knew that he would surely be dead, had all those drawn blood. Otherwise he was alright, except for a few minor cuts and bruises from the explosion. Harry looked around and found his wand lying on the floor three feet away and gingerly picked it up. The movement sent waves of fire travelling through his beaten body and Harry gritted his teeth while fighting down the pain. Normally it would have been time to visit the hospital wing and to let Madame Pomfrey heal his wounds, but he had no intention to get interrogated about where he got the injuries. Of course he could ask Ginny or Hermione to patch him back together, but he did not want to risk splinching himself when trying to Apparate in his condition. So, he would have to heal himself.

Harry knew only a single healing spell. It had been described in _Fifty Wicked Combat Spells_, because it required almost no time and only very few energy to be cast. Therefore it enabled the user to heal little injuries while fighting and sometimes even that small an advantage could turn the tables. Unfortunately, it only worked on non-magical wounds and Harry had no idea if his wounds would be considered non-magical, they had been created by a magical object after all. Oh, well, he would simply give it a try.

Scooping up his concentration, Harry muttered the incantation under his breath, making sure to pour a bit of extra power into the spell. The effect was immediate. A wave of energy passed over his body and for a moment the pain flared more intensive than before. Harry watched the splinter in his hand getting forced out of his flesh and watched in amazement as flesh, sinews, muscles and nerves knitted themselves back together, leaving only a small patch of irritated skin behind. The pain vanished and Harry felt as good as knew, only a bit tired.

He took another glance around the library and was glad to find the Horcrux blasted into a billion pieces. His instinct, as well as the knowledge imparted into his mind by Dumbledore's Thought Bottle, told him that this piece of Voldemort's black soul was gone from this world forever. Glancing at his watch he realized that he had been gone for almost an hour. Damn! Ginny, Ron and Hermione were probably already forming a rescue mission, his chance of sneaking out without the whole castle knowing were shrinking rapidly. Cursing, Harry wheeled around to run out of the library, but jerked to a halt as he spotted a piece of parchment lying beneath the chest which had contained the Horcrux. He placed the box on the floor and glanced at the parchment, which appeared to be at least several years old. Harry was disappointed to discover that instead of ordinary text the parchment was covered in runes completely alien to him. He did not know whether the parchment was connected to the Horcrux, but vowed to take it with him anyway. He did not have any idea where to find the next one and the possibility of getting to know its whereabouts was definitely worth taking the possibly useless piece of parchment with him. Harry knew he should show it to Hermione, she should be able to decode it, being a natural in Ancient Runes. Remembering that he had wanted to head back to Hogwarts, Harry turned around and hurried out of the room.

- - - - -

Harry climbed into the common room barely ten minutes later still slightly dazed from his experience at Grimmauld Place. He had been way too close to dieing or to be seriously injured and Harry would have been a fool if this had not been bothering him. Especially the fact that the Horcrux had been unprotected otherwise, was nagging him. If he had nearly died trying to dispel an unprotected one, then would he be able to destroy a protected one? Harry had his doubts and felt more than a bit disheartened. However, giving up was not an option, not after everything Riddle had done to him. Voldemort would pay for his crimes and Harry would be the one to punish him, even if he died in the process. He would have to fight either way; Voldemort would never stop hunting him, until he was either dead or locked away in one of his torture chambers. Fleeing would only delay the inevitable and Harry firmly preferred meeting his nemesis on his own terms. He would train harder than ever before and study the memories Dumbledore had left him thoroughly. Harry hoped that it would be enough.

Sinking in one of the armchairs next to the fire, he realized that the common room was completely devoid of his housemates. Maybe they were still at the feast or watching the bizarre lightshow outside. Harry did not know what on earth it was, but his gut instinct told him that it was not good at all. He made a mental note to ask Ron, Hermione and Ginny about it as soon as he encountered them. For the moment, he was glad to be able to rest for a while, suddenly feeling very tired. The whispers of power he had heard while holding the Horcrux flashed briefly through his mind, but Harry managed to chase the insidious thoughts away. He knew now that he had been foolish to react that panicky as he heard the voices for the first time. Voldemort had probably only cast a spell on the Horcrux to prevent whoever found it from destroying it. It could not mean that Harry was subconsciously whishing to be immortal, could it?

A firm hand on his right should interrupted his thoughts. He wheeled around in his chair, wand in hand and ready to curse any attacker into oblivion only to come face to face with Ron, Hermione and Ginny, all of them looking at him in various degrees of anger.

"You better have an explanation where you have been the last hour and why you did not tell us about your whereabouts, Potter." growled the latter, her eyes blazing. Harry realized that he was in big trouble; Ginny had probably worried herself sick about him and was now angry about finding him unharmed in the common room. It did not really make sense, after all she did not want him to get injured, yet Harry could understand her and he knew that his explanation would only make things worse. Ginny would flip as soon as she learned that he had not told her about his trip to Grimmauld Place because he wanted to protect her and he doubted that Ron and Hermione would react much differently. Still he was not going to lie, partly because he did not want to and partly because Ginny had always been able to tell when he was trying to. But he definitely was not going to discuss this in the middle of the common room, which was getting more and more populated each second.

"Funnily enough I have one." replied Harry, meeting Ginny's fiery gaze without flinching. "But this is not the place to discuss it."

"Room of Requirements then?" asked Ron, his gaze darting from his best mate to his sister. Having been at the receiving end of his sisters glare of death numerous times during his life, Ron could not help to feel a bit of admiration for Harry, who did not seem intimidated at all.

"Definitely." replied Harry, before standing up and leading the way out of the room.

The four of them walked to the Room of Requirements in silence, each of them way too wrapped up in his own thoughts to continue their discussion. They could feel the argument brewing between them and each of them knew that it would not take long for it to finally erupt. They found the room to be small and bare except for a blazing fireplace and four armchairs, rendering it strikingly similar to the Gryffindor common room. Harry sat down in one of the chairs with a sigh and waited for the others to join him before starting to speak.

"Alright, I had this brainwave when walking back from training." he said. Harry was not at all comfortable with talking about the Horcruxes in front of Ginny, but he realized that she would never ever accept getting sent away now. "Suddenly I remember Sirius brother Regulus, who deserted the Death Eaters and was killed by them. Conveniently his middle name is Arcturus, which means that his initials are R.A.B..."

"Oh my god!" exclaimed Hermione. "Does that mean Regulus has stolen the Horcrux?"

"Yes." replied Harry. "He must have somehow discovered it and obviously realized how dangerous and valuable this information was. After he had decided to leave the Death Eaters, he must have stolen the Horcrux as a last act of defiance. Maybe he had also hoped to negotiate with Voldemort about his life and considered his chances higher if he had the Horxcrux, but we probably will never know. Anyway, I remember Sirius telling me that his brother returned to Grimmauld Place in the middle of the night one day before he disappeared. I guessed that he had hidden the Horcrux in Grimmauld Place, so I went there and found it after a while. I used the knowledge Dumbledore gave me to destroy it. Today one part of Voldemort's black soul was destroyed forever."

"Well, that's great mate!" said Ron, the anger on his face replaced with excitement. "Any ideas where the next one is?"

"Maybe, I found this piece of parchment next to the Horcrux." answered Harry. "I can't read the runes on it, but it is possible that there are some hints in there. Hermione, do you have any ideas what this could mean?"

Harry pulled the parchment out of his robe pocket and by doing so exposed his formerly injured hand which was still covered in his blood and which he had kept hidden in his pockets before. He heard Ginny's and Hermione's sharp intake of breath and was not surprised as the former grabbed his hand and bent over to examine it closely.

"Oh my god Harry, what happened to your hand?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"There were a few … complications as I dispelled the Horcrux." replied Harry, knowing that he was now in very big trouble. "I healed the wounds, but forgot to wipe the blood away. Sorry for scaring you."

"And when did you plan to tell us about these _complications_?" replied Ginny, her eyes narrowed in anger. "The same time you were going to tell us about you going away?"

"Well, I had not really planned to do so at all." answered Harry truthfully, his own temper flaring due to Ginny's accusing tone. "I am healed after all, so what would have been the point? You would only make a scene, like you are doing now!"

"Oh excuse me for caring!" snarled Ginny, her anger mounting. "Excuse for worrying about you when you have vanished into thin air! If you don't want me to care about you then simply say so, I will be gone as soon as the words leave your mouth!"

"Don't be stupid, of course I want you to care!" snapped Harry, interrupting her rant. "I did not tell you about my plan to visit Grimmauld Place because it was going to be dangerous and I knew that you would have wanted to accompany me! Excuse me for wanting to get you through this war alive!"

That did it, Ginny swelled like a bullfrog and Harry mentally kicked himself for choosing these words. He knew that Ginny hated getting babied more than anything

"You wanted to _protect_ us?" she screeched spitting the word as though it were a vile curse. "Well then listen to this! I am tired of getting protected by you, you stupid noble git. I am a grown woman and I can take care of myself and you are not going to continue doing things behind my back simply because it suits you!"

Silence followed her words. Harry had originally wanted to retort with equal ferocity, but could not deny that her words held some truth. He had chosen not to tell his friends, because he did not want to lose them on a dangerous mission, knowing that he would never forgive himself if something happened to them. He knew that each of them could defend himself in a duel and Ron' strategic genius, Hermione's knowledge and Ginny's fierce fighting could really be helpful when destroying a Horcrux. Yet, he had chosen to go to Grimmauld Place alone; did this make him a particular good or a particular bad friend?

Shaking his head and deciding to think about this some other time, Harry admitted defeat.

"You're right, I am sorry for being an overprotective git." he said, not sure if he was lying or telling the truth. "I should know that each of you could be a real help and I should at least tell you what I am going to do, so that you can watch my back."

"True, but at least you are my overprotective git." replied Ginny, the anger on her face gone. "Thanks for at least trying to change, I know that it is hard for you to accept that you are not responsible for everyone's protection."

Ginny gave him a quick peck on the lips, which caused Ron to avert his eyes, Hermione to sigh and Harry to relax. The tension in the room was gone and everyone could not help but to feel both relieved and also a bit surprised that the argument had been over so quickly.

"Alright." said Harry, breaking away from his beautiful girlfriend. "Now tell me about this strange lightshow going on outside."

- - - - -

One evening, six weeks later, Harry was sitting in the Gryffindor common room, lost in thoughts. Originally, he had wanted to do his Potions essay, but his mind kept wondering to the war. So far Hermione had not succeeded in translating the runes and that meant that they still had no idea where to find the next Horcrux. And there was the thing with the Fortress of Woe. If all the rumours about the place were true, then Voldemort had acquired a mighty weapon indeed. The thought of getting mind controlled was troubling Harry greatly, but what galled him most was that he was powerless to prevent it. Neither he, nor the Order or the Ministry had any idea where the Fortress had been summoned and so far none of them had managed to acquire even a scrap of information about it. They had no idea what Voldemort was planning and when he was going to activate the Fortress' power, provided that the ancient building still held powers, of course. Harry liked to think that Voldemort had wasted lots of his resources to summon a powerless building, but he knew that he was only hoping beyond hope. As soon as there would be any information retrieved regarding how to find and to enter the Fortress, Harry would jump into action, but until then he had vowed to train as hard as possible, having no desire to be just one more of Voldemort's victims.

Over the weeks he had made enormous progress in duelling. His reflexes were faster when ever before, rendering him able to win a fight against three training dummies at the same time. He had finally enough control over the Starfire Charm not to blow himself up when using it, though he still tended to burn himself. Harry's control over his power had increased as well, allowing him to supercharge spells should it be necessary. Supercharged spells retained the original effect in a more powerful variant and were harder to block than ordinary ones. A supercharged Reductor Curse, for example, was able to blast straight through a wall and would still affect anyone hiding behind it. Despite his progress, however, Harry was not content. For the last four weeks, practicing the Focus Arkanum had been very frustrating. No matter how hard he tried, he never was able to gather more than a certain amount of energy. He could feel much more power inside of him, wanting to be used, but the excess energy simply slipped from his grasp whenever he tried to access it. It was driving him mad.

Harry had already searched for a solution in the volume describing the meditation technique, but what he had found was far from satisfying. He had discovered that a highly complicated potion could help him to overcome the power block, as it was called in the book. However the potion, which was called _night whisper_, was highly dangerous, because it forced the drinker's body to expose all of its energies. If the drinker was not able to control the energy or to dispose it, then he or she would be incinerated with seconds. Also the potion caused the mind to relax, allowing the subconscious to take control and therefore could cause dreamlike hallucinations. When brewed incorrectly or overdosed, it could also lead to madness, coma and death. Not desperate enough to try the potion yet, Harry had decided to simply keep on practicing, maybe the block would disappear by itself.

Looking up from his essay, after admitting to himself that he was unable to concentrate on it anyway. Harry spotted Ron and Hermione sitting at the other end of the common room, desperately trying not to look each other into the eyes, even though they were sitting in front of each other at the same table. Harry furrowed his brows; they had been like that for almost two weeks! At first he had thought their strange behaviour as another part of the bizarre mating ritual they dared calling a relationship, but when they had not bickered in a week he was beginning to get nervous. He had tried to talk with both Ron and Hermione about it, but the two of them had pretended that nothing was wrong and Harry had given up after a time. Now his patience was wearing thin. Time was much too precious to waste it and Ron and Hermione had once again found a reason not to spend what could be the last days of their lives together and once again returned into their state of painful isolation. Well, Harry would be damned if he was going to let that happen!

Just as Harry wanted to start thinking about how to approach his best friends, Ginny came down from the girl dormitory and slid into the armchair next to him.

"What is bothering you?" she asked, as soon as she had seen his face. Ginny had always been able to tell if he was angry or upset about something, but Harry could not help to admire the way she was able to penetrate his carefully erected façade.

"The two over there." he said quietly, tilting his head at Ron and Hermione. "Something is the matter with them, but they don't want to talk about it. I wish, I could find out what is going on."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." replied Ginny, gnawing at her bottom lip, obviously thinking hard. "I asked Hermione myself a few times about it, but she did not say anything. I have given up by now, I don't see any way… oh! That's it!"

"What?" asked Harry, wondering what on earth she was talking about.

"I know how to get Hermione to talk to me." exclaimed Ginny, a smug look on her face. "Tomorrow I will have the answer!"

Harry watched her standing up and crossing the room. She whispered something into Hermione's ear and the two of them walked up the stairs leading to the girl dormitories. Well, if someone could find out what was bothering Hermione, then it was Ginny. Satisfied, Harry refocused his attention on the essay lying on the table in front of him.

- - - - -

While Harry was finally making some progress at his thrice accursed essay, a portly, old wizard was holding a wine bottle in his hand, examining its label and clicked his tongue in approval. An excellent vintage! The elder was sitting in a lavishly furnished dining room, the table in front of him craning under the load of exquisite dishes prepared for his pleasure. A fire burned merrily in a fireplace to his right, chasing the December chill away, which often penetrated the old buildings thick walls. The old man looked at the red wine, which looked almost black in the greenish bottle, picked up a corkscrew and opened it. It was the last thing he ever did.

Instead of delicious and refreshing wine, pure blackness poured out of the bottle. Two clawed hands manifested within a split second and broke the victim's neck within a heartbeat. As he fell to the floor, the rest of the darkness contracted and formed Sandro the shade assassin.

"You had an excellent taste of wine." he told the corpse, summoning his black book and crossing out a name. "A pity that it did not save you."

It had almost been too easy. The mansion was heavily guarded, way too heavily to perform a clean and quick assassination. Therefore, Sandro had hidden himself in one of the wine bottles which were supposed to be delivered to his victim. All food getting brought into the house was checked for poison, but Sandro was not the least bit toxic, even though he was deadly. Of course he had drunken the wine before slipping into the bottle and he had liked it so much that he had written down the wine's name. A rather refreshing way to kill someone, all in all.

Looking up his next appointment in his black book, Sandro realized that the time has come to pay Harry Potter at Hogwarts a visit. Well, tomorrow he would, because more than three jobs a day was supposed to bring an assassin bad luck. Also working more than three hours a day was almost obscene! Looking forward to the new job, the assassin smashed one of the room's windows and flew away into the night, ignoring the alarms sounding as he forced his way outside.

- - - - -

As Harry crept downstairs to the common room on the next day, it was a Saturday, he was surprised to find a thoroughly exhausted looking Ginny sitting on one of the tables. She had dark rings under her eyes, which were unfocused and glassy and her hair was still tousled from sleep. Confused, Harry set down next to her.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked her, causing her to groan and to clamp her ears shut.

"I will be, if you stop screaming." she replied testily.

Harry's brows furrowed in confusion as he realized that his girlfriend was suffering from a massive hangover. He could not remember any reason to get wasted yesterday, especially getting wasted without him, after all a drunken Ginny could be real fun.

"Err, Ginny, why did you got drunk yesterday?" he asked, omitting the "without me" for the moment.

"You wanted me to find out what was wrong with Ron and Hermione, did not you?" she answered, glaring at him. "It was necessary to get drunk in the process."

"Really?" he asked, his interest piqued. "What did you do and what did you find out?"

"Well, I played 'Have You Ever' for most of the evening with Hermione and when she got drunk enough, she told me." replied Ginny. "And after she told me I had to drink because it was so disgusting."

"How on earth did you get Hermione to play 'Have You Ever'?" asked Harry, amazed that his best female friend would agree to this kind of game. He knew it very well, having played it with Ginny several times during the summer holidays. One player asks another one a yes or no question and he or she has to answer truthfully. If the answer is yes then you have to drink one sip, if it's no two sips. If you hesitate you have to drink three. It is a nice game to get to know your fellow players, but people normally get drunk very fast. Ginny and he had always played the strip version of the game, which works the same, except that you have to strip instead of drinking.

"Well, I told here that we would be using Butterbeer, but I used the spiked versions of the drink Fred and George sell in their shop." answered Ginny, grinning despite her pounding headache. "And what she told me really made my day; it looks like her and my brother are having sex."

Harry nodded, even though he shuddered at the mental image. This was no big surprise.

"And, it looks like not everything is going smoothly." continued Ginny, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Apparently Ron is too focused on his own pleasure and Hermione feels a bit left out. She told him and he totally flipped, bruised male ego, I think. Well, and that's why they have been so distant in the last few weeks. What are you going to do about it?"

"Me?" asked Harry alarmed. He did not like the sparkling in her eyes one bit. "What am I supposed to do about it?"

"Well, teaching my brother how to do it right would be a possibility." she replied, grinning.

"Excuse me? You want me to show Ron how to pleasure a girl?"

"Yeah, I can hardly do it myself, for I lack both the knowledge and the physical necessities." she answered dryly, amused at his shocked expression. "Go on, you are Harry Potter, it can't be harder than the other stuff you have done. Good luck love, I am getting myself an anti-hangover potion."

Harry watched her leaving with his jaw hanging open. He was so dead!

- - - - -

Three hours later, Harry had finally scooped up the courage to confront his best mate. He asked him to accompany him to the Room of Requirements, because he had something important to discuss with him. Ron looked slightly confused, but agreed immediately, apparently not aware that his best friend knew about the nature of his and Hermione's problems. Just as the two of them walked out of the portray hole, Harry caught a glimpse at Ginny, who was smiling at him encouragingly.

The moment Harry set foot onto the ground in front of the Fat Lady, everything went black. His arms and legs were grasped by the darkness shrouding him and his mouth was suddenly filled with rubbery black stuff, smothering every chance of screaming for help or of uttering an incantation. Harry heard Ron screaming, but the sound was distant and he knew that his best mate would never be able to help him. Then the blackness started moving, carrying Harry with it out of the castle.


	11. Whisked Away

Harry felt his feet hitting the ground shortly after the shadow had grabbed him. He knew that only minutes could have passed but it had felt like eternity to him. Still completely blinded and in his attacker's vicelike grip, he tried to find out somehow where he had been brought. Judging by the frigid air surrounding him and the sharp wind howling around him, he was standing somewhere outside in a rather unprotected location; maybe on a clearing or on a plateau. The thought caused a tiny bit of hope to erupt in his heart. If he was out in the open, then the Order members, who were without doubt already searching for him, would be able to spot him easily. All he had to do was to buy time and that was not going to be that difficult, right? For a moment Harry hoped that Voldemort would be waiting for him here, because the arrogant dark mage tended to be rather talkative when confronted with his favourite enemy. One day, Riddle's tendency to view all other people as harmless would be his downfall, but Harry doubted that it would happen today. He was jerked out of his thoughts, by the darkness disappearing around him, leaving him able to see in what kind of situation he had gotten himself this time.

He was indeed standing on a plateau, which was part of the various mountains surrounding Hogwarts. Harry could see the school on the horizon and he knew that the wooden foothills surrounding the mountain were part of the Forbidden Forest. Even if he managed to escape, getting through the forest in one piece would be difficult to say the least.

"I see you brought him." said an all too familiar voice to Harry's right. Harry's head whipped around and he found himself face to face with his old Potion teacher, who was accompanied by two burly men in Death Eater outfits, whose faces where hidden by masks. "Hello Potter, long time no see."

"You!" shouted Harry, his blood starting to boil as he looked into the face of the man he loathed even more than Voldemort himself. Subconsciously he tried to flick his wrist to draw his wand, which was still stored in the holster strapped to his right hand, but discovered that his hands had been bound behind his back. He tried to break free from his shackles, but realized almost immediately that it was impossible. The material was too strong to break free and his confinements to tight to wiggle free. He was helpless.

"Was there ever any doubt that I would succeeded?" asked a voice from behind Harry. "I admit that my 'grab and run' method is not innovative or particularly complicated, but innovation is overrated anyway and often simple things work better than complicated ones, don't you agree Severus?"

Harry craned his neck to see who was speaking, wanting to find out who had managed to capture him so effortlessly. A shiver ran down his spine as he looked into a man's face made completely out of shadows. A corporeal shade! That explained a lot! Hermione had once started to talk about undead in general and shades in particular during the time they had spent revising for their O.W.L.s. Ron had of course tuned her out, but Harry had listened and actually remembered a bit of her evaluation.

Shades were vengeful spirits, which hated all living and normally killed every still breathing thing they could lay their claws upon, no matter what. They were the hate filled souls of the murdered, who hated their murderers enough to return from the dead in a twisted form of themselves. Depending on the power of the deceased person and the hatred driving it, the shade grew more powerful and turned from a cloud of black smoke into a more substantial form. Allegedly it was possible for a shade to get a body similar to his original form, combining the advantages of a shade with the ability to manipulated objects as easily as an ordinary human. Also these corporal shades retained at least some of their mind, evolving from mindless killers to insidious and cunning creatures. Harry had always considered the rumours a bit exaggerated, but apparently they were true. He briefly wondered what kind of loathing was necessary to become such a powerful undead and what could possibly cause it, but his thoughts were chased away as Snape spoke up again.

"As much as you like to talk about your incredible talent as an assassin, I would really like you to hand Potter over to me." said Snape impatiently. He was smiling wickedly, apparently savouring his victory over Harry. "And yes Potter, it is me, did you really believe that we would not meet again? You will be kneeling in front of the dark lord before the day is over. If my master is feeling particularly merciful, then he may let you die after an hour or so of torture."

"I doubt that!" replied Harry, spitting on the floor in front of Snape. "Before the day is over, I will be dancing on your grave, you bloody traitor and Voldemort will be next in line!"

"Your arrogance knows no bounds Potter." replied Snape smiling. "You are merely a schoolboy of mediocre talent and you will never be able to best either me or my lord. Was the little demonstration I gave you at the end of the last year not enough to show you your limits?"

"That was a long time ago." answered Harry grimly, his gaze boring into his former professor eyes, loathing evident on his face. "I have learned a lot in the past months and you will find it out firsthand how much progress I made sooner or later. You are still the same coward you always were, letting others do the hard work, before claiming the credit."

"You should not confuse cowardice with cleverness Potter, but as a true Gryffindor you probably don't even know the difference." said Snape dismissively. "Hand him over Sandro."

"I would like my payment first." growled the shade assassin, placing a claw on Harry's shoulder and gesticulating with the other. "I have made it a habit not to trust anyone and I am not going to change this rule anytime soon. Especially not when dealing with Death Eaters."

"Fair enough." replied Snape, even though his displeasure was evident on his face. "Here, catch!"

The former potion master produced a small leather pouch out of his robe's pocket and flung it at the assassin, who caught it effortlessly. The moment his hand closed around the item a wave of energy flowed over Sandro's body and he was suddenly covered in a two inches thick ice carapace. Snape had immobilized him!

"Miller, get Potter, while I finish this." said Snape, smiling at the helpless assassin. "My master was not in the mood to pay you Sandro and you should not know that we consider everyone who is not an ally as an enemy. Good bye Sandro and thanks again for bringing us Potter."

One of the Death Eaters grabbed Harry the moment as Snape raised his wand. Harry tried to struggle, but his hands were still tightly bound and he was no match for the physically superior goon. Harry could only watch in despair as the Death Eater started to drag him away from the assassin, probably to prevent him from getting hit by whatever curse Snape was going to use on the shade. For a moment despair filled Harry's mind, his helplessness was driving him mad. He knew that he was not ready to face Voldemort now, not without his wand and not with three Horcruxes still intact. He had to get away now!

"Avada Kedavra!" screamed Snape as soon as Harry was out of harm's way. The irony that Snape was protecting him to sign his death warrant did not escape Harry and a bitter chuckle escaped his throat. He did not care about the assassin, but if Sandro could somehow evade the curse, then maybe he could slip away in the erupting fight.

Harry was lucky. A heartbeat before the jet of green light would have hit the shade assassin straight into the chest, the ice imprisoning him burst into a storm of shards. A hole formed with lightning speed in Sandro's chest, so that the Killing Curse sizzled harmless through it instead of ripping his life away. The assassin did not even wait for the void in his torso to close, before attacking.

Two bursts of midnight black needles erupted from his arms, aimed at the two Death Eater accompanying Snape. The deadly hail was fast, way too fast for the unsuspecting victims to react. Unfortunately, Harry was still carried along by one of them and therefore was standing directly in the line of fire. Fortunately, he, contrary to his captors, had been alert and had his seeker's reflexes to help him. Harry let himself fall to the ground a split second before the needles struck home. He heard a disgustingly wet sound the same moment he hit the hard earth, followed by two screams and silence. As he dared raising his head again, he saw Snape and Sandro locked fierce battle.

"No one betrays me and lives, prepare to die, fool!" snarled the assassin, firing another volley of needles, which Snape blocked with a summoned stone wall, before answering with another Killing Curse. Sandro effortlessly dodged Snape's attack and leaped at the potion master, clawing him across the face, before having to retreat to avoid getting hit by Snape's counterattack.

"We will finish this another time, Sandro." snarled Snape, blood flowing down his face. One of his hands disappeared in his robe pocket and he disappeared, obviously having activated a Portkey. Harry was alone with the assassin.

- - - - -

Hope flared in Harry's heart as soon as Snape had been forced to retreat. Maybe the assassin called Sandro would simply let him go, after all the deal he had agreed upon with Voldemort was cancelled. On the other hand Harry was a very valuable prisoner and the odds were high that Sandro would simply keep him until someone bought him free. The thought send shivers down Harry's spine. His hands were still bound, rendering absolutely helpless against a foe as formidable as the assassin. Harry sighed into the still morning air, it was one of those days were you really should have stayed in bed.

Harry's gaze travelled unto the assassin's form, who stood stock still on the very ground were Snape had disappeared, his face a grimace of rage. Harry knew it was prudent to lay low for a while, until most of his captor's anger had been evaporated. He had seen how nonchalantly the shade killed and he had no desire to raise its body count.

So he waited.

A heartbeat appeared to last an eternity as Harry awaited a change in the shade's behaviour, knowing that every moment could be his last one. Finally, after what felt like eons, Sandro relaxed, his face returning to normal. His claws clenched and unclenched a few more times, before his rage was finally spent. Sandro turned around and saw Harry lying there in the mud, hand still bound behind his back.

"You are still here?" he asked the youth, surprise in his voice. "I thought you had run away as soon as the trouble with Snape started. The deal is over, get lost kiddo!"

"Oh I really would like to, but I find it kind of hard to rise from the ground without being able to use my bloody arms." snapped Harry in reply.

"Well, after everything I have heard about you, I am kind of disappointed that you can't free yourself." said the shade, his face twisted into something which might have been a smile. "Alright then, there you go!"

Harry's shackles vanished and he immediately rose from the ground. He started to massage his hurting wrists, but made sure to be ready to draw his wand at every time. He was far too experienced to even remotely trust someone as ruthless as a professional killer and while Sandro did not appear to be manipulative, it still could be that he had second thoughts about allowing Harry to leave.

"Well, I will get going then." he said more to himself than to Sandro, who was currently busy scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment.

"You do that." replied the Shade in a bored voice. "I have to write this complaint to the assassin guild and then I will prepare my little revenge against these double-crossers."

Harry could not help himself, a small smile slipped unto his face at the thought of having a new pseudo ally in his fight against Voldemort. Maybe the day was not so bad after all. His gaze fell on the mangled forms of the two Death Eaters who had been accompanying Snape. It was definitely unhealthy to have the shade assassin as an enemy. Suddenly he spotted something small and glittering lying in a puddle of blood on the ground next to one of the corpses. Allured, Harry bent down to examine it. It was a tiny bottle, not larger than his small finger and something about it seemed familiar, but could not put his finger on it. He decided to take it with him and show it to Hermione, maybe her amount of almost unending knowledge would help him to solve this riddle.

Without another word, he turned around and started his track back to Hogwarts through the Forbidden Forest. It was going to be a long march.

- - - - -

Harry sank into the comfortable chair with a sigh of relief. Ron, Hermione, Ginny and he were once again sitting in the Room of Requirements, having retreated into the room's solitude to discuss the day's events. Harry had arrived back in school almost two hours after an exhausting trek through the famous Forbidden Forest. McGonagall had already been waiting for him at the front gates, as he arrived there sweating and gasping for breath, but otherwise unhurt. After calling back the teams searching for him outside of Hogwarts, she had brought him to her office, wanting to know what had happened to him yet again. Harry had told her everything except for the mysterious bottle he had pocketed. He did not even really know why he had omitted this piece of information, but he would definitely tell Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Maybe it was good to have a few trumps up the sleeve, just in case they had to work together closely with the Order in the next future. Harry knew that there were a lot of things McGonagall kept from him and the other Order members and he had no intention to reveal all of his knowledge unless they did so as well.

He had met with his two best friends and his girlfriend nearly half an hour ago and had spent the last twenty minutes explaining to them what had happened, also mentioning the bottle he had acquired.

"Hm." said Hermione thoughtfully, as she examined it. "This is definitely a magical item, but I am not sure about its properties. If you want me to Harry, then I will try to find out what exactly is in this bottle. It may take a few days though."

"That would be great Hermione." replied Harry, stroking a few stubbles on his chin while thinking hard. The fact that Sandro had been able to capture him so effortlessly was nagging at him, especially because he knew that Voldemort was many times more powerful then the shade. He had found a solution, but he did not like it a bit. However the only other option was to gamble with his own life at stake and Harry hated gambling. "My instinct tells me that there is something really important about this little bottle."

"Are you alright mate?" asked Ron, concern evident on his face. "It must have been really scary."

"I am fine." replied Harry curtly, not wanting to talk about his feelings right now. He had to think about the bloody war, not to talk about something that unimportant!

"Yeah, sure and I am a flubberworm." said Ginny sarcastically. "Harry everyone in this room knows that there is something troubling you, so spit it out! It will help you, trust me."

"Fine!" snapped Harry, his temper getting the best of him. "You want to know if I am alright? Of course I am not bloody alright! I just got captured by an assassin working for Voldemort and was only a hair's breadth away from getting hauled away to spend the rest of my life in one of old snakeface's torture chambers! That's not really encouraging if you know that you will have to face him sooner or later! I failed to defend myself tonight just as I am going to fail when crossing wands with Voldemort! Would you feel alright if you had a guaranteed violent death waiting for you out there?"

Ringing silence followed his outburst. Harry could feel the desperation he had fought all evening rising in him again and buried his face in his hands, not able to bear the sympathetic looks on Ron's, Hermione's and Ginny's faces. Silenced ruled the room for a few more precious minutes and Harry welcomed the peace it brought to him. He could pretend to be just a normal guy for these stolen moments, forgetting about the war going on outside the sheltered castle walls, forgetting about the day's events and forgetting about his bloody fate. All too soon his illusion shattered.

"Harry." said Ginny's gentle voice at the same time as two small, warm hands were placed on his shoulders. "Harry, please look at me."

Not having the strength to argue, Harry obeyed, wiping away the wetness clinging to his eyes.

"Harry." she continued, while stroking his hair soothingly. "I know that this is hard for you, but you have to believe in yourself if you want to beat Voldemort. I am sure that you will find a way to come up with the power to defeat him. You are way stronger than you give yourself credit for. Weaker men would have give up ages ago if they had to deal with what you have got on your plate. You survived so much Harry; you are going to pass this final test. And afterwards you will be able to do everything you always wanted to do. You will finally find peace."

Even though Harry felt like protesting at her kind words, they rekindled the fire of determination in his chest which had been close to dieing tonight. Instinctively he reached out and embraced her, burying his face in her fiery hair. She was his pillar, his promise of a better future, his ticket to heaven. And he would be damned if he was not going to do everything to win this bloody war.

"Don't you dare dieing." he whispered into her ear. "I want to kiss you when I return from the final battle."

"I will be there, don't worry." she whispered back and for a moment Harry wondered if all lovers told them such obvious lies. Then his cynical side shut up and he allowed himself a few moments of bliss in the arms of the girl he loved.

"Uhm, should we give you some time alone?" asked Ron, as neither his best mate nor his sister made any move to disentangle themselves from each other.

"No, it's alright." replied Harry, gently ending their embrace. "Hermione, on the bottom of my trunk in the dorm there is a book called _Focus Arkanum – Unleash Your Hidden Powers_. On page seven hundred and two you will find the recipe of a potion I need brewed as soon as possible. Could you take a look at it?"

"Sure thing, Harry." answered his female best friend. "I will start with it as soon as possible."

"Thanks." said Harry, having decided that he could do with every advantage he could get against Voldemort. "Ginny, would you please accompany Hermione, I have got some things I need to discuss with Ron."

"Alright." replied the redhead, giving Harry a knowing smile. "I will meet you later then."

The two girls shared a look before hurrying out of the room and Harry had the distinct impression that they would like nothing more than to eavesdrop.

- - - - -

"So, what did you want to talk about?" asked Ron, feeling a bit worried. He could no think of a reason why Harry would want to have a private conversation with him, but he was pretty sure that things were going to become uncomfortable.

"I know about your and Hermione's problem." replied Harry, facing the fire burning merrily in the room's fireplace.

"Oh." was all Ron was able to say, blushing more profoundly then ever before in his life. So, his best mate knew that his girlfriend was not happy with his lovemaking skills, life was great!

"I am here to help." continued Harry as though Ron had not said anything.

"Help?" asked Ron, dumbfounded for a moment. "How exactly are you going to be able to help me getting Hermione off?"

"Well, as the more experienced of the two of us, I could tell you a few tricks how to make things for Hermione more pleasurable. Don't worry it isn't very hard."

"Oh and how exactly are you experienced in shagging girls?" asked Ron, his eyes narrowed and a thoroughly disgusting thought rising in his mind. "You didn't…"

"Yeah, I did shag your sister." answered Harry, having the decency to blush crimson. "Now don't freak out!"

For a moment everything in Ron screamed out to hurt the git he used to call his best mate for destroying his sister's innocence, but his mind cleared before he gave in to the temptation. Knowing Ginny, she had probably been the one who had talked Harry into shagging her and even if it had been the other way round, he would hardly stand a chance against his best mate. He would have to accept it and if it helped him to fix things with Hermione then he would take a look, even though the knowledge of where Harry had this kind of knowledge made him shudder.

"Alright." Ron finally said, sighing. "I don't like the thought of you and Ginny shagging but I am not foolish enough trying to stop you. Tell me what you know."

"Great." replied Harry, obviously both relieved and slowly warming to the topic. "Let's start with kissing."

- - - - -

"Will you please stop doing that?" asked Ron his best mate angrily. "You are making me nervous."

"Sorry." replied Harry sheepishly and complied. It was Boxing Day and Harry and Ron were waiting for Ginny and Hermione to get finished for the ball starting in half an hour. They had already been waiting for at least an hour and Harry had spent the time by playing with the ring Ginny had given him for Christmas. It was a silver ring, with a single round emerald, which she had found in a pawn shop in Daigon Alley during the summer. It was a strange gift, because Ginny knew that Harry did not care much for jewellery, but she just had to buy the ring, because of the few words inscribed in it: _To James from Lily, as a reminder of brighter days_. She had asked the shopkeeper and had learned that the ring had been bought almost sixteen years ago, along with some other items, which had belonged to deceased without any relatives. He had been unable to sell it due to the gravure, but had hesitated to throw it away. Ginny had bought it immediately, knowing that she would need a Christmas gift for Harry, no matter how the many hard feelings currently were between them.

Harry had been overwhelmed. Even though he could not know for sure that this was his father's ring, he had slipped it on immediately. He knew that maybe he was only fooling himself, but he loved having an item which reminded him of both his parents and Ginny at the same time. Until Ron had told him to stop, he had slipped the ring off his finger every few minutes, examined it, before putting it back on. He had nearly forgotten that Ron was in the same room and felt a little bit guilty for forgetting about his best mate, especially because of the baptism of fire Ron would have to attend in a few minutes. Today Ron was going to spend a whole evening alone together with Hermione for the first time after he and Harry had the little talk. Harry still cringed at how embarrassing it had been to talk about having sex with his best mate. Well at least no blows had been exchanged.

"Cheer up mate, you will be fine." replied Harry. "Hermione likes you a lot, or she would not have put up with you for so long."

"Thanks, that helps a lot." answered Ron sarcastically.

Originally, Harry wanted to continue reassuring his best male friend, but just as he opened his mouth, he spotted Ginny and Hermione finally coming down the stairs leading to the girl dormitories. Both looked fantastic, dressed in the same dressrobes they had been wearing on Bill's wedding. Ginny's fiery curls were tied in an elegant bun, but a few strands refused to be tamed and lined her face. Harry groaned inwardly as he realized that she was looking exactly like she had when he had first made love to her and the thought made him want to ravage her here and there.

He glanced over to Hermione quickly, needing a more harmless sight than his beautiful girlfriend. Harry noted that she looked exceptionally pretty as well; dressed in dark blue dressrobes and with her elegantly braided, sleek hair, but her appearance did not even have a remotely similar effect on him. Judging by Ron's sharp intake of breath, however, this was not true for his best mate. Harry had to hide a grin, he was absolutely sure that things would be much better between Ron and Hermione in the morning. Those two really did enjoy dancing around each other.

"Shall we get going then?" asked Ginny and Harry happily let her drag him out of the room.

- - - - -

Ron could not believe that this was really happening. He was pressed against one of the walls of the Room of Requirements, with Hermione attacking his mouth with a hunger he had not known existed. They had been at the ball for barely an hour, making awkward conversation, before Hermione had suggested going somewhere more private. Ron had agreed immediately, thinking that she had only wanted to talk. He had been surprised to be heading for the Room of Requirements and even more surprised to find it bare except for a huge bed, but did not have the time to ponder this lack of furniture, because Hermione had immediately pressed him against the next wall and had started to kiss him. Not that Ron was complaining, but he was a bit surprised. And nervous. Hell, he was more nervous then at his first time. Back then he had only been inexperience, now he knew for sure that he had been rubbish in bed and had a voice in his head, which sounded remarkably like Harry and was telling him what to do. Ron did not like it, but he would be damned if he had sat through this embarrassing hour with his best mate for nothing. He was going to make Hermione scream tonight.

Ron's arms snaked around Hermione's waist and he slowly stared to move towards the bed, dragging her with him, while taking a more active role in the dance of tongues in his mouth. He knew that he was being bold, but judging by the way Hermione clawed at his dressrobes in a futile attempt to get them off he was doing the right thing. When he reached the bed, he pushed Hermione gently down on the sheets and he started to undress rapidly. Hermione mirrored his movements and soon both of them were naked, staring at each other. She always took Ron's breath away when he saw her naked, her beauty somehow amplified by the knowledge that she wanted him. Not Harry, not any of his brothers but him, Ron Weasley. It was the best feeling of the world.

Unable to bear it any longer, Ron lowered himself on the bed and an electric jolt travelled down his spine as soon as his naked skin touched hers. She was hot, almost burning and it felt so unbelievably good to be pressed against her. His mouth crushed against hers and started its dance with its mate anew. One of Ron's hands crept down to pinch and to stroke her right nipple, causing Hermione to moan into his mouth, while the other one squeezed her bottom tightly. Normally Ron would have already mounted her, but Harry had told him in no uncertain terms that he had to wait until a girl was ready before shagging her brains out. So, he opted for a more subtle approach.

He abandoned Hermione's mouth, causing her to groan in protest and started to trail kisses along her jaw, before sucking at her sensitive pulse point. He loved the taste of her skin, now mingled with the salty taste of sweat and it drove the fire of need burning in him to new heights. He needed more. Abandoning her neck, he kissed his way down to her breast and started to suck on each nipple. Hermione moaned and started to buck underneath of him at his ministrations and Ron could not help feeling a bit proud. That had never happened before.

He thought about going the next step, but decided against it. Harry had advised him to pleasure a girl orally if he wanted to make sure that she had an orgasm at least once, but considered that way to gross. Instead he let one of his hands wander downwards and was pleased to find her wet with need. She was ready for him and he was ready for her.

Stopping his assault on her breasts, he gently spread her legs apart and entered her, his mouth once again fusing with hers. After granting her a moment to get adjusted to the feeling, he started to thrust. His right thumb searched and found her clit, rubbing it in small circles just as Harry had told him to do. She was much tighter than he remembered and he felt already ready for relieve. Nevertheless he was determined to make her come first and fortunately he did not have to wait long.

The combined effort of his cock and finger pushed Hermione over the edge a few seconds before Ron climaxed as well. She screamed his name as her brain was getting overrun with pleasure, but Ron's mind was too dazed to take any pleasure in it. He collapsed in front of her and only managed to say that he loved her before falling asleep.

- - - - -

"Stand up you bastard!" shouted Ocean and pulled the fallen boy roughly to his feet before backhanding him across the face. He was standing at the entrance of the Fortress of Woe and had finally captured Draco Malfoy. He had found him in a shabby hotel room in Oxford and he did not consider it a coincidence that he had finally managed to find the foolish boy after giving Snape false information about his plans. Well, his master would have to decide what to do with this knowledge. Ocean loathed Malfoy. The boy had chosen to ally himself with the Death Eaters, knowing completely what he would have to do when working for Lord Voldemort. He had had a choice and he had chosen wrongly, signing his own death warrant in the process.

Ocean knew that he was only so angry, because his only choice had been between a slow and painful death and serving Riddle, as he liked to call his master in bolder moments. He had been working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as a hitwizard, but life had not been good those days. He had always done only paperwork in the office, because he was considered to young and inexperienced to do field work. Coming from a poor Muggle family, Ocean had always considered his aristocratic face a farce, created by fate to mock him everyday. He had been very frustrated back then, always having been ambitious and wanting to earn enough money for a life in luxury to make up for the childhood of need he had had. Probably that was why everything had gone wrong; maybe his ambition had caused him to dig his own grave.

Two years after he had started working in the Ministry everything had fallen apart. His long time girlfriend had ran away with another man and he had drowned his sorrow in Firewhiskey. After not going to work two weeks in a row he had been fired and somehow ended up in the _Falling Noose_, where met a few shady guys. They had talked him into robbing a special department of the Ministry in which confiscated goods were stored. Foolish, desperate and drunk as he had been, he had agreed.

He could not remember much of the robbery, the only thing he knew was that the men guarding the department had been killed, even though they had agreed upon not killing anyone in the coup. Two days later, he had been arrested and was sentenced to ten years in Azkaban three months later. He had been there when the loyal Death Eaters had been freed and had pleaded to be allowed to come with them. So he had ended up in the services of a madman.

Ocean snapped back to reality at the voice of another man, asking him where to bring Malfoy. He told them to bring the boy to the dark lord, knowing that he himself would be punished for delivering the boy so late. Well, it could be worse; pain was the only thing showing him that he was still alive after all.


	12. Revelations

As December turned into January the tension in the castle grew. Voldemort had celebrated the new year by launching an attack on Diagon Alley, apparently eager to display his strength. By the time the Aurors had arrived, most of the damage had already been done. Not much was left of Britain's most famous shopping street except for an impressive amount of rubble. The Death Eaters had been hesitant to join a fight and had started to retreat as soon as they had met the first significant resistance. Clearly it had been an attack designed to remind the Wizarding World that Voldemort was still there and more than able to make their life a living hell. However, one thing was puzzling about it: the absence of any corpses. Even though a lot of witches and wizards were still missing, no evidence could be found confirming their demise. Ministry workers were still combing the ruins for any missed, but Harry was sure that their search would be in vain. Putting two and two together, it was not very hard to find out about Riddle's real motivation for the raid: he needed more energy for the Fortress. Despite the possible doom his nemesis new powerful weapon could bring, Harry felt heartened by the aggressive way Voldemort was searching for new 'fuel'. In his opinion this was evidence that he still was a long way from having sufficient power at his command to take over the country.

It was a cold Saturday morning in early January as Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny once again met in the Room of Requirements. Hermione had found out several things over the last few days and wanted to share it with the rest of them. Harry had not been pleased about Ginny's inclusion in the discussion, still not at all comfortable with the thought of including her in his crusade against Voldemort. However he knew that trying to force her to stay out of harm's way, would be as easy as commanding a bird not to fly. Admitting defeat, he had grudgingly accepted her presence.

"Alright Hermione." said Harry after they had sat down. "What did you want to tell us?"

"Well, I have found out several interesting things." answered Hermione, ungluing her gaze from Ron's face with whom she had been trading affectionate looks, much to Ginny's amusement. Things were much better between the two of them since after the Christmas Ball, but Harry never had had the guts to ask Ron how the night between him and Hermione had been. He certainly did have enough disturbing images in his head; he did not need any additional ones. Ginny and himself had been at the ball way longer then Ron and Hermione, not having the uncontrollable need to shag each other into oblivion. They had spent the night in Harry's bed after the ball had ended, only to be discovered bright and early on the next day, by her noisy brother. Ron had not been overly amused, but had not made a scene, not keen on spreading the fact that his baby sister was sleeping with his best made in the whole dormitory.

"First of all, Harry, I have almost finished the potion you asked me to brew, it only has to simmer for another week." started Hermione, her eyes bright with excitement. "I hope that I did everything correctly, but I am fairly sure, because it looks exactly like it does in the book. Are you absolutely sure that you want to take it Harry? It is horribly dangerous after all, I have never seen that many possibly harmful side effects on any other potion. You could die or worse, lose your mind!"

"Yeah, I know." muttered Harry. He knew what could happen and to be honest he was scared out of his mind. Since he had seen Neville's insane parents it had been one of his biggest fears to lose his own mind, yet he knew that the alternative was certain death for him and everyone he held dear. There really were more difficult choices. "But I need the power. Without it, everything is lost and I am more than willing to take the risk. And trying to talk me out of it will be just wasted time and energy."

"But…" started Ginny, only to be cut off by Harry immediately.

"No buts." he said sharply, his emerald eyes boring in her chocolate ones. "I know that you are only concerned about my safety and honestly I really appreciate it, but there is no other option. I need this power to finally defeat Voldemort and I am doing this for you as much as for me. I don't know how powerful I will be after drinking the potion, but I know that I will be stronger than I am now and that's enough for me. So please don't make this decision any harder by trying to stop me."

Ginny lowered her head under his intense gaze, nodding grudgingly. Harry knew that she liked his decision as much as he liked her presence at the meeting, but he guessed that both of them would have to accept that you could not always form life according to your wishes. Pushing the thought out of his head, Harry refocused on Hermione and asked her to go on.

"Alright, I have analyzed the bottle you brought me." she continued, producing the small bottle out of her robe pocket and placing it on the table between them. "It is Thought Bottle, but I have no idea what kind of knowledge is stored in it."

"Well, nothing easier to find out than that." replied Harry, feeling strangely reckless for a moment. In a single, fluid movement he grabbed the tiny bottle, uncorked it and downed the content in a single gulp. He could hear Hermione protesting, Ron gasping and Ginny screaming, but he did not care. New knowledge invaded his brain, forming a single image. A bulky fortress carved out of blood red stone, spikes adorning its walls and twisted faces inscribed in the walls. The Fortress of Woe. Harry knew where it was!

"What on earth do you think you are doing?" hissed Ginny, after he had put down the bottle. "Are you stupid? We did not know what had been in the bottle and you simply drink it?"

"It was a Thought Bottle Ginny." replied Harry. "What kind of information could have been in there that would have been able to hurt me?"

"That's beside the point!" she answered heatedly. "You really have to stop being reckless before it gets you killed! Damn it Harry, you of all people should know who dangerous it is to tamper with things you know nothing about!"

"No, you are missing the point Ginny." replied Harry with equal ferocity. "Have you read the papers today? Voldemort is getting stronger and stronger and our precious time is running out, especially if the rumours about the Fortress of Woe are true. We just can't afford losing even more time by being overly cautious. If I can't come up with enough power and knowledge to defeat Voldemort, then I am dead anyway, so I really can't see why risking my health while trying to get stronger is supposed to be foolish."

"You really don't think that you will survive this." said Ginny quietly after a few heartbeats of silence. It was a statement but sounded like a question.

"Yes, I doubt that I will be alive after everything is over." answered Harry truthfully. "I will try, but I can't promise anything. Believe me, I would like nothing more than to come out of this madness unscathed, but if I die, promise me that you don't waste your life mourning for me."

"That's enough Harry." interrupted Hermione sternly. "You are going to defeat Voldemort, survive it and life happily ever after. Did you get that?"

"Sure." replied Harry tonelessly, thinking that it sounded way too much like a fairytale to be true. However, for this moment he considered it wise to change the topic. Hermione would never let him off the hook if he continued this discussion and he had bigger things to worry about currently. "What else did you find out?"

Hermione's disapproving glare told him that she did not believe a syllable of his agreement, but she continued nevertheless.

"I finished translating the runes you found with the first Horcrux." she said, producing a piece of parchment from her robe and placing it on the table between them. Harry picked it up and started reading it aloud.

_Dear mother, dear father,_

_When you are reading these lines I could very well be dead, because I chose to abandon the Dark Lord. During my services, I once was ordered to guard a certain cave by You-Know-Who himself, but refused to tell me what I was supposed to guard and why. Of course I simply accepted being kept in the dark and soon I had forgotten about the incident. However, as soon as I realized that I did not want to be part of the Death Eaters anymore, I remembered my guard duty. I knew that the Dark Lord always executed deserters and therefore decided to steal whatever he was guarding that carefully, simple to really ruin his day. I managed to penetrate the protection he had placed on the item, my detailed knowledge of the Dark Arts finally paying off. I realized almost immediately that it was a Horcrux and how lucky I was to posses something that valuable. I am sorry that I did not explain to you what was going on as I came here tonight, but I really was in a hurry and only stopped here to get the Horcrux somewhere safe. I will visit a manor some of my "colleagues" had to guard; the rumours are that it is the Dark Lord's father's house. Maybe there is another Horcrux hidden in it, even though I am pretty sure that no one had more than one Hocrux before, but the normal rules don't apply to the Dark Lord. Maybe I will be able to exchange the Horcruxes for my life._

_Looks like Sirius was right in the end._

_Wish me luck,_

_Regulus_

"I should have known!" said Harry, slamming his right fist into his left palm. "There is another Horcrux hidden in Riddle Manor! Voldemort probably wanted to celebrate the fact that he killed his Muggle father and therefore selected this hiding place. Dumbledore said that three people died that night, but only one Horcrux had been found in the Gaunth's house! It all fits together!"

"Alright then." said Ron, his face both grim and eager at the same time. "When do we get going?"

"We are not going any…" started Harry, but was cut off by Ginny immediately.

"Yeah sure, after you nearly got yourself killed the last time we are just bound to let you do this on your own." she said sarcastically, her eyes burning with anger. "We are in this together Harry, we are going to help you whether you like it or not!"

"You don't even know what a Horcrux is." snapped Harry. "How exactly are you going to be any help?"

"I know how to fight!" replied Ginny fiercely. "You of all people should know that!"

"Yeah and she is underage." said Ron pensively. "Did not you say Harry that some of You-Know-Who's spells had no effect on you because you still were underage?"

"Excuse me?" asked Harry, staring at Ron in bewilderment. "You of all people should be helping me to keep Ginny out of danger, not to find reasons for her to accompany us! What on earth has happened to you?"

"Well." said Ron. "I have got enough experience to know that Ginny has made her mind up about going to war with us. If we leave her behind she will only develop some foolish plan to join us and I think that she is safer with us than out there on her own, trying to prove everyone what a grown up woman she is. Believe me mate, I would like nothing more than to have her completely save, but I don't think that it is possible. She's simply too stubborn to do what's good for her."

"Alright then." said Harry grudgingly after thinking for a few minutes. He had realized that Ron was indeed right; Ginny was way too stubborn a woman to accept being left behind. Better to have her nearby, so he could have an eye on her. Sometimes he hated having fallen in love with a woman as headstrong as himself.

"Great!" she replied, obviously pleased with herself. "When do we depart?"

"Hold it." continued Harry. "We are not going in there without a plan. We are going to need all information about the house and the murder of the family that we can get. It is likely that Voldemort has placed the Horcrux somewhere significant for his revenge on his father."

"I will have a look in the Muggle newspaper archives and maybe get a magical map from the house." replied Hermione, a pensive look on her face. "It will take some time though."

"Doesn't matter." replied Harry. "We won't get going before I took the _Night's Whisper_ and before we have at least something remotely similar to a plan. I have the feeling that we are going to need the extra power. Agreed?"

Ron, Hermione and Ginny nodded.

- - - - -

Ocean's body was still burning with pain from the punishment his master had put him through by the time he passed the fuelling chamber of the Fortress. He hated walking past this hideous room, but unfortunately it lay directly next to the residence of the Dark Lord, no doubt to entertain the sick bastard with the victim's screams. He briefly caught a glimpse of a woman getting sucked away by a yet of blackness until only her bones remained, through the slightly ajar door and accelerated his walking. As an additional punishment he had been commanded to stand guard in an old manor in Little Hangleton, but little did his master know that Ocean was more than glad to gain some distance from the daily slaughter of the Death Easter.

- - - - -

A week later, Harry entered the Room of Requirements, with a freshly brewed vial of _Night's Whisper_ in his robe pocket. A bizarre mixture of fear, hope and excitement surged through his body and he briefly considered not risking losing either his life or mind by taking the potion, but this notion was washed away as soon as he thought about Ginny, Ron and Hermione. It had nearly killed him to see the fearful looks on each of their faces as he had picked up the vial from Hermione, but he knew that there was no other way to come out of this mess alive.

Sensing his rather subdued mood, the room had adapted to his subconscious wishes, creating a rather spacious, circular room, filled only with a cot lying on the floor and a mass of candles around, shrouding the room in twilight. Harry chuckled mirthlessly for a moment at the cliché his subconscious had created, before sitting down on the rather comfortable cot. Sighing, he pulled the vial out of his pocket and started at the clear liquid swirling inside for a few moments. Then, he pulled the cork and gulped it down in one big swallow. Immediately his vision blurred.

Harry felt like he was floating in something both gaseous and fluid at the same time. The substance was lukewarm and comforting and despite the fact that he could not feel his body, Harry felt himself relaxing. He could not see, his vision was a mass of different shades of grey with an occasional burst of colour within. He lost all track of time, for all he knew he could have been in this state for a second, a minute, a day, a month, a year or a decade. Suddenly his vision cleared. Harry was standing on a battlefield, the scorched earth between his feet the colour of dried blood mixed with soot. Lying in front of him, his broken body curled up like those of a cat, was Lord Voldemort, his scarlet eyes dead and lifeless, his wand still clutched tightly in his hand.

Harry realized that he himself had a wand in his hand and he somehow knew that only a few seconds ago he had used it rip what was left of Voldmort's black soul out of his twisted body. His thoughts were muffled somehow as though they had to pass a wall of cotton before getting digested by his brain and his body felt alien, even though it did not make any sense. Confused, Harry tried to move his head, wanting to take in more of his surroundings, but to no avail. Suddenly, he felt himself turning around, his body acting completely on its own. What he saw took his breath away. The plain behind him was plastered with corpses. Some of them he recognized, Snape and Wormtail lying mangled on the floor, their blood forming crimson seas around them. Others were anonymous, their features hidden beneath their Death Eater robes and masks. There were hundreds of dead bodies, most of them human, but Harry could see one or two slain giants as well. Without doubt, he knew that he had been the one causing the blood bath, slaughtering his way to Voldemort to finally punish him for everything he had done.

"Harry!"

Harry felt himself turn and came face to face with Ginny, who was stepping towards him through the corpses as quickly as possible. Harry watched in horror, as his wand arm raised his wand, its tip pointing directly at Ginny. Harry knew what was going to happen, but was powerless to prevent it.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

- - - - -

Harry woke with a scream, his whole body trembling as he tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened. For a few agonizing moments he really believed that he had killed Ginny for no apparent reason. He wanted to die, he wanted to rage, he wanted to surrender to his despair. It felt as though his mind was going to snap under the pressure the guilt put on him.

Then it was over.

Harry suddenly realized that everything had only been an illusion created by potion he had swallowed. Relief washed over him, but as his psychical pain was extinguished, he became aware of his physical one. His body felt as though it were on fire, every muscle in his body was burning and his head was pounding as though it was about to explode every moment. However all of this did not matter. What did matter was the fact that his body pulsing with magical energy. Harry felt more powerful than ever before and he knew that the potion had worked. It was intoxicating and exhilarating, he felt as though he could do everything he wanted, as though defeating Voldemort would be a piece of cake by now. Well, maybe it would be, but first the room would have to stop spinning.

- - - - -

"We are really going to do this, aren't we?" asked Ron, his voice trembling with excitement. Or fear.

"Yeah we are." replied Harry grimly, rubbing his gloved hands together to banish the chill surrounding them.

Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny were standing on a snow tipped field, not more than a five minute walk away from Riddle Manor in the middle of the night on a cold January morning. They had chosen a point of arrival that far away to have an element of surprise above whatever guards Voldemort had probably placed there. True to her word, Hermione had come up with an abundance of information about the old house and the murder of the Riddles and Harry was confident that he knew where the Horcrux was located, assuming that there was indeed one in the manor. The Riddles had been found murdered in the master bedroom and Harry was sure that Voldmort had placed the precious item on the place remembering him the most of his hideous deed. Hermione had also managed to organize some plans of the old house and the four of them had spent hours trying to decide which of the numerous entrances they were going to use. In the end they had decided for a small backdoor in the garden, which had apparently been used often by the now dead gardener, and to split up in the house so they would arrive from different directions at the bedroom, sandwiching the guards between them.

Harry could not suppress a shiver as his gaze fell on the once majestic house. The sight caused the nightmare he had during the summer of his fourth year to resurface, in which he had watched Voldemort killing a Muggle which he assumed had been the gardener of the estate. His mouth went dry as he remembered which entrance he had used to get into the house, the very same one they were going to use in a few minutes! For a moment Harry thought about changing the plan, but he dismissed the notion as foolish almost immediately. He was only being nervous; the Muggle had not even been caught at the entrance but deep inside the manor, so it was no bad omen, right?

"Alright, let's go." he said quietly, as though they were in any danger from getting overheard. "Remember, inside we will spilt up; Ginny will come with me and take the eastern flight of stairs leading the master bedroom and you two will take the western."

"We know Harry!" said Ginny, sounding slightly annoyed. "We have talked about that for almost three days!"

Sparing his breath, Harry chose to ignore her comment and started walking. His newfound power pulsed in his body in anticipation as the four teens made their way towards the house stealthily. He was amazed at how easy it had become to access his power after taking the potion and at how much untapped energy was still resting in him. At the moment he was still lacking the skill necessary to control all of the churning sea of raw energy in him, but he could wield about half of it now without blowing himself up in the process. All his sense were searching the night keenly for any signs of life, but so far they had encountered nothing bigger than a stray cat and Harry suspected that it would stay like that until they had entered the house. Voldemort would not commit more than two or three of his servants to guard the house, unwilling to expose how important the house was for him. Of course it was impossible to monitor all of a manor with that little manpower, so they were most likely waiting for them in the local area of the master bedroom.

The four students entered the manor through the almost completely overgrown backdoor and Harry was a bit surprised not to find any wards shielding the building. Maybe that would have aroused too much attention or Voldemort was just to busy for creating any new ones. For more than once Harry wondered if his nemesis knew that one part of his immortality had been destroyed already. Well, he guessed that he would find out as soon as he met his old enemy for the next time.

Two flights to the north and then one to the west before splitting up. Harry's heart was hammering in his ears as he and Ginny separated themselves from Ron and Hermione, executing the plan they had made. He glanced shortly at Ginny and realized that she was at least as nervous, if not as frightened, as he was. Harry concentrated on the last training he had had in the Room of Requirements to fight down his growing anguish and was pleased to see it was working. As he arrived at the final flight of stairs, his mind was clear and focused as though this merely were another training session. He could feel two persons waiting for him only a few steps down the corridor away. He had extinguished the light of his wand during his ascend on the stairs, unwilling to alert the guards of his presence. The velvety darkness which had shrouded him for the last few steps gave way to a greyish gloom, telling from torches the guards were using to provide some light in the dark house. They would never see him coming.

He stealthy made his way towards the light source. He knew that Ron and Hermione were bound to arrive at the entrance leading to the master bedroom every moment, so they would be able to sandwich the guards between them, causing their chances of victory to skyrocket. He could feel Ginny following him and was both glad about the reinforcement and angry at Ron for talking him into allowing her to accompany them. A small voice in his head told him that he was being irrational and that Ginny could be really useful in securing the Horcrux, but he tuned it out almost immediately. Some things never changed and Harry was sure that his protective instinct was one of them.

Harry could now see his target: an old, sturdy oaken door, leading to the master bedroom, illuminated by two torches hanging in the wall next to it. However, only one guard was standing next to the door, a tall, slim man with an aristocratic face, black, shortcut hair and ice blue eyes. He looked incredibly bored and Harry knew that he had not spotted him. But Harry was still feeling two other people and – oh damn!

Acting on instinct, Harry threw himself to the ground, narrowly dodging the jet of sickly green light aimed at his head. He hit the cold stone floor hard, rolling into the small illuminated area, directly in front of the second Death Eater. Their eyes locked and for a few seconds time stopped. Then, in less then one of Harry's rapid heartbeats, the man whipped out his wand and launched a powerful stunner at him. He was fast, but Harry was faster. The spell sizzled harmlessly against Harry's shield charm and he retaliated with a stunner himself. His opponent calmly blocked the spell and answered with a Cruciatus Curse, which Harry sidestepped. They continued trading spells for a time, neither of them gaining the upper edge over the other. Harry' patience was wearing thin and he fired two supercharged stunners at the Death Eater, knowing that they would blast straight through any shield his opponent could erect. However, his enemy was not foolish enough trying to block the spells, having somehow realized what Harry was up to. Instead, he rolled sideward and attacked as soon as he regained his footing. Harry grudgingly accepted that this duel would take a lot of time if he did not receive any help. What was taking Ron and Hermione so long and what was Ginny – oh god, she was alone with the other Death Eater!

Cursing himself for forgetting about her, Harry pondered what to do. Judging by the Death Eater's and Ginny's absence, they were currently battling each other. Should he retreat to help her or hold his position so that he, Ron and Hermione could overpower this Death Eater? However, the piercing scream sounding in this very moment, made the decision for him, Ginny was in trouble.

Fury flooded his system as the image of Ginny's prone, lifeless body lying on the cold floor rose in his mind. All thoughts of tactic, strategy and control were washed away, leaving only blinding, all consuming rage behind. Pointing his wand at his opponent, Harry uttered the incantation for the Starfire Charm and channelled all energy he could reach into the spell. He had not used the spell in the duel until now, because the corridor was way too narrow to use this powerful magic without risking hurting oneself in the process.

He was beyond caring.

Harry could not remember finishing the spell ever so quickly in his life; it took him barely a second to send the azure blue beam at his opponent's chest. It was flying too fast to sidestep, so the Death Eater was forced to block the spell. He did indeed manage to erect a shield and for a split second it actually seemed to withstand the spell's tremendous power, but then the beam broke through, hitting the Death Eater straight into the chest. He was flung backwards against the door, a charred and smoking hole where his heart used to be. His blue eyes were open in shock and clouded with pain, but for a moment Harry saw something like relief swimming in there, but he sprinted away to help Ginny before having time to ponder this. What he did not see was the scarlet skull appearing on the door as the Death Eater died next to it.

It took Harry barely half a minute to reach Ginny, his wand illuminating the veiling darkness. He did not care that he was giving his position away by lighting it; all he wanted was to see the last expression on the Death Eater's face when he killed him for hurting Ginny. The bastard would pay, no he _had _to pay. The fact that he could still feel Ginny and that she therefore had to be alive, did little to dim his rage and so he charged into the corridor like an angry bull, just to halt in full stride as he saw the scene in front of him.

Ginny was cradling her left arm in which a deep cut was oozing blood and was standing over the bound and gagged form of the other Death Eater, looking exhausted and in pain, but also quite proud of herself.

"What… what happened?" asked Harry.

"I won." said Ginny simply, her teeth gritted in pain. "He got me with a slashing hex in the arm; did you take care of the other one?"

"Yeah." replied Harry, still slightly dazed by the face that Ginny had defeated a Death Eater single handed. He had always known that she was a capable fighter, but knowing something and seeing it were two entirely different things. He continued speaking after regaining his composure. "We should find Ron and Hermione and get your arm healed. I would try it myself, but Hermione is way better at healing, so I think it would be wise to wait for them."

Ginny agreed and the two of them returned to the door leading to the house's master bedroom, only to find Ron and Hermione already waiting there.

"What on earth happened?" hissed Ron as they approached; pointing at the Death Eater's broken form. Harry started explaining, while Hermione healed Ginny's wound, before focusing her attention on the door.

"As harsh as it sounds Harry, it was good that you killed the Death Eater." she said darkly, after he had finished. "Do you see that symbol on the door?"

"The skull?" asked Harry, trying to look at the door without having to glance at the dead body below. In his rage, he had not wasted a single thought at the possibility of killing his opponent with the Starfire Charm, because he had been focused entirely on saving Ginny. Now, however, he felt disgusted with himself, felt dirty, contaminated and somehow less human than before. He wondered if he would ever be able to forget the fallen Death Eater's face. He knew that he had acted in self defence, but this did not stop the nausea which threatened to overwhelm him. To push these disturbing thoughts away, he focused on the task at hand: securing the Horcrux. "It was not there when I first came here."

"There was an ancient necromantic spell placed on the door, so it would only reveal its secret if someone died next to it." explained Hermione, her face grim. "Voldemort probably suspected that only one or two people would search for his Horcrux and this enchantment would force them to kill each other to enter the room."

"Sadistic bastard." muttered Ron under his breath, but Hermione continued nevertheless.

"The Death Eater's death has lifted the enchantment and it should now be safe to open the door."

"Should be?" asked Ginny, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I am not entirely sure." admitted Hermione.

"Let's see." said Harry and pushed open the door, revealing the room behind.

As Hermione had predicted the door opened without blasting the intruder into a thousand pieces by some unnameable dark curse. Behind lay a small, rectangular room painted completely black, bare except for a small pedestal on which Hufflepuff's cup was sitting and not the bedroom Harry had been expecting to see.

"Looks like Voldemort has created a magical room overlaying the normal one." said Hermione quietly behind him. "Just like Mad-Eye Moody's trunk."

Just as Harry wanted to take a step further into the room, a prickling in his neck caused him to halt immediately. Somehow he knew that magical wards littered the bare appearing floor. Harry knew that he would never be able to dispel whatever hideous enchantment Voldemort had cast, so only one solution remained, even though he hated it.

"Stop!" he said. "There are wards here designed to kill any intruder. I can't dispel them and we don't have the time to do any research on the topic. It is only a matter of time until other Death Eaters show up here."

"Well, what do we do then?" asked Ron.

"Ginny will get the Horcrux." said Harry, despite feeling sick at the mere thought. "She is underage and therefore should not get recognized by the wards."

"Are you mad?" screamed Ron. "She will probably die in there!"

"Shut it Ron, I will do it!" said Ginny, quietly, pushing aside her brother and striding into the room, a determined glint in her eyes.

Nothing happened. No death rays strode out to burn her, no horrible creatures emerged to rip her into shreds, no deadly poison filled the air. It seemed to work.

"What do I do now?" she asked Harry.

"Grab the cup and run!" he replied, his fist balled so hard in anticipation that his fingernails were drawing blood.

"Alright." she answered, grabbed the cup and pulled. For a moment it appeared as though the cup was somehow attached to the pedestal, because it did not move, but suddenly it slipped free. Ginny managed two quick steps towards the door before hell broke loose. The whole room erupted in black flames, just before the door slammed shut, locking Ginny in.

"Ginny!" screamed Ron, tugging futility at the door. "We have to help her; she will burn to death in there!"

"We could Apparate inside." suggested Hermione shrilly.

"This won't work." said Harry, whose blood had run cold the moment he had seen the flames bursting into existence. "There are Anti-Apparation Wards in place, but there may be a way."

Taking a deep breath, Harry blinked into the Horcrux Room.

The heat hit him like a hammer strike, actually causing him to stumble a bit backwards and knocking the air out of his lungs. He took a deep breath of the boiling air and promptly coughed as it burned like acid in his lungs. Flames were licking at his robes, immediately causing it to go up in flames as though it were made of paper. Pain assaulted his mind as the flames reached his skin and his eyes were watering from the smoke, but it did not matter. The only thing that mattered was Ginny. After a few seconds of searching he found her. She was lying on the floor flames nearly completely covering her, the Horcrux still clutched in her hand. For a dreadful moment Harry considered her dead, but then he could here her whimpering in pain. With a single huge stride he was at her side, grabbing her hand and blinking both of them out of the hellish room. They hit the floor in a tangle of burning limbs and clothing and were immediately hit by a torrent of icy water, which extinguished the flames immediately.

The last thing Harry saw before passing out was Ron's worried face.


	13. Aftermath

Harry's back ached. He had been sitting in this uncomfortably hard chair in the Hogwarts hospital wing for at least six hours and the physical strain his silent vigil had put on his body was finally showing. The room was dark; sun had set nearly an hour ago, but Harry had not bothered to light any candles. Madame Pomfrey had retired in her office some time ago, having finished the therapy for today and apparently having decided to grant him some space after pestering about his uncooperative behaviour all day. Harry was glad for the solitude, for it gave him time to think, even though his thoughts tended to be full of sorrow these days.

It had been only two days.

Two bloody, heart-wrenching days. Two days filled with pain and despair. Two days filled with guilt, self-disgust and self-loathing. Two days filled with doubt about everything he had ever believed in his life. Two days in hell.

Sighing, Harry ran a hand through his hair. Most of it had been burned during his brief stay in the burning room and therefore it had been cut much shorter than ever before, so short that it had even lost its messy character. He looked like a Muggle soldier and Harry had chuckled mirthlessly for a minute or two at how appropriate his look fitted reality. He had retained several medium degree burns while saving Ginny, most of them on his torso and large parts of his body were still covered in bandages so that they could heal properly. Harry knew that it would only take two more days until they would be removed but nevertheless he was vexed by them to no end, because they reminded him every second of what had happened. A sliver of moonlight feel in the room, illuminating his tired face and the small bandage covering his right cheek, and revealing what he had been staring at for the last few hours.

It was another of the hospital wing's bed occupied by a person almost completely covered in bandages. The only think left undisguised were the persons closed eyes and its right hand, which Harry was clutching as though it were his lifeline. A single tear trickled down Harry's undamaged cheek as though of who was lying in this bloody hospital bed and why.

Ginny.

It was all his fault. He should have never ever let Ron talk him into taking her with them. The victory they had gained by finding the Horcrux was tainted by Ginny's state and Harry was beating himself up inside over it. He should have known that Voldemort had placed a trap in the room, triggering when the Horcrux was removed, after all it had been the same in the cave. He should have sensed it, like he had the other traps, and he should have reacted more quickly as soon as things had started to get out of control. He had succeeded in neither of these things and it was eating him up inside.

Harry did not remember much of their return to Hogwarts; he had just woken up in the hospital wing, finding Ron and Hermione sitting in the space between his and Ginny's bed. They had quietly explained about what had happened, that they had not told McGonagall about the mission they had been executing and that while not very happy about the secrecy, the headmistress had decided not to transfer Ginny to St. Mungo's despite of her grievous injuries. In her opinion it would create way too much attention and odds were high that Voldemort would seize this chance to get his hands on her. Harry could not have agreed more.

Fortunately Madame Pomfrey had known immediately what had happened to Ginny, apparently having treated a patient with similar symptoms sometime during her life. The black fire was called Demon Gaze, an old necromantic spell designed to kill a victim quickly, but inflicting maximum pain during the process. Instead of only eating away her flesh, the magical flames had attacked the very core of her being, attempting to extinguish the candle of life burning in her. Harry did not know how close she had been to dieing and honestly he was quite glad to be left out in the dark in this particular detail, because he doubted that he would have been able to bear the answer. The last thing that kept his mind from falling apart at the seams, was the knowledge that Ginny had survived. She was not out of danger and lying in a coma, but she was alive and breathing and stable. For now.

For a moment white hot rage filled Harry, taking control of every synapse in his brain, washing away guilt and sorrow as though they were merely stains on a stone wall. His hands were balled to fists and he could feel his power building as his thoughts focused on the real reason for Ginny's state. Voldemort. The name echoed in his head and for a moment he thought he could hear his nemesis' sadistic laugh, mocking Harry's attempts at destroying his immortality and taking wicked glee in the losses he suffered in the process. In this moment Harry knew without doubt that he would do everything to kill that monster, just because what his spells had done to Ginny. Voldemort was busy trying to destroy everything Harry cared about and Harry took the attempt more than a bit personally. Voldemort would pay and if it was even remotely possible, Harry would make him suffer as much as possible before killing him. An evil smile formed on Harry's face as he imagined the look on Riddle's face as he told him about the end of his precious immortality he had worked so hard to create. The look on the snake-faced bastard's face would be enough to make up for all the blood, sweat and tears he had shed destroying them.

His gaze fell on Ginny's face again, or rather it fell on her eyes, and his rage vanished as quickly as it had come. He knew without doubt that he would never forgive himself if she died or worse never woke up. He had a hard enough time looking Ron in the eye now, he did not want to imagine how bad it would be if Ginny's condition worsened or endured. Bile roses in his throat at the mere thought and suddenly he felt himself sobbing quietly, his face buried in his hands.

"Don't leave me Ginny!" he managed to say between his choked sobs. "I can't do this without you! Please stay!"

Suddenly Harry felt a firm hand on his shoulder. Reacting completely on instinct he wheeled around, his wand drawn within a split second from its holster and pointed at the intruder. Just as he was about to launch a stunner, he realized that he was standing face to face with a startled looking Ron.

"Don't do this." said Harry, pocketing his wand. He was surprised at how gruff his voice sounded. "I could have seriously harmed you; I am not the most emotionally stable person at the moment."

Harry chuckled for a moment mirthlessly at his own joke, while Ron was just staring at his best mate in shock.

"Seriously Harry, what on earth has happened to you?"

Harry suddenly realized how he must look like. His fingernails had been drawing blood as he had balled his fists in his fury mere moments ago and said blood had been smeared on his face as he had buried it in his hands and had mingled with his tears. He looked like a tormented saint weeping blood because of the world's injustice. No wonder Ron was currently staring at him as though he were a ghost.

"Nothing Ron." replied Harry bitterly, finally answering the redhead's question. "Everything is just as ever, a perfectly normal day in my messed up life."

Ron looked startled at his best friend's bitterness for a moment, but recovered quickly enough. His face softened as he walked closer to Harry, finally halting only a foot away.

"I know it has been hard for you." he said softly, desperately wishing for Hermione to bang into the room to help him. Hell, dealing with a crying Harry was much worse as dealing with a crying girl. A girl usually was not able to hex you into next month within a bloody heartbeat. He could see tears shining in Harry's emerald eyes, something he had never seen before. It scared him out of his mind.

"Are you parents informed of Ginny's condition?" asked Harry suddenly, his eyes staring through Ron as though he were not there. Harry's sudden change of topic did not escape Ron and further increased his worry for his best friend. Where was Hermione when you needed her?

"Yes, McGonagall sent them an owl a few minutes ago, they will be here soon." he replied, weighing his words carefully. Ron did not even want to think about what would happen if Harry lost the last bit of his composure. Bloody hell! Why on earth did Ron have to be next to Harry, when the usually so emotionally guarded git was starting to open up? Ron had lost count of all the times when he had been called insensitive in his life, but he knew that he was rubbish at figuring out other people's feelings and even worse in acting accordingly to this new information. It had taken him almost four years to discover that he fancied Hermione, for god's sake! And now he was supposed to comfort his best mate, who had just watch what Ron hoped was the love of his life, falling into a coma because she had insisted on helping him.

Having experienced Harry's nobility complex for the last seven years, Ron knew that Harry was blaming himself for what had happened to Ginny and that it was tearing him apart. Maybe he had underestimated the depth of his best mate's feelings for his sister. Ron himself was of course depressed himself over Ginny's injury and of course he had blamed himself for not putting up a bigger fight as Ginny had exclaimed that she wanted to accompany them. But he had known Ginny long enough to know that she would have tried to help them anyway and would have consciously jumped into whatever danger necessary to do so. This knowledge helped him a lot to deal with the whole mess. While still being shaken deeply at how horribly their trip to Riddle Manor had gone wrong, he had come to terms with it so far that he accepted that it could not be undone. Perhaps for the first time in his short life, Ron really knew what war was. War was not some abstract term, war was personal. War meant to play a game of exploding snap with everything you held dear on the stakes. Sometimes you lose, sometimes you win, but in the end you are always poorer then you were before, even if you only lost your innocence. It was a hideous game with no winner and if Ron had to guess, he would say that the first round had been a stalemate between Voldemort and them.

"I can't face them." said Harry, his voice so low and his eyes so unfocused that he appeared to be talking to himself. "Not after everything I have done to their daughter. Not after last night. I would not be able to bear it."

"It was not your fault Harry." cried Ron, grabbing his mate's shoulder to back his claim up. "Ginny chose to come with us, she knew what had been at stake and we were successful. We got the bloody Horcrux and she will be alright, you will see. No one could have known that You-Know-Who had placed further enchantments on the bloody cup. Heck, Harry, without you she would have burned to a crisp in there. You bloody saved her, for god's sake! Why is it so hard for you to accept that you can't protect everyone! You are not responsible for anything this sick bastard has done! You are the one who can get rid of him one and for all! You will save countless people in the future, but only if you keep going! Stop now and Ginny's sacrifice will be useless!"

Ron would never know what had made him say all the things he had, but he succeeded in snapping Harry out of his trance.

"Saved her?" snarled his best mate, his emerald eyes blazing with anger and self-loathing. "Without me she would have never been near the bloody Horcrux. I have been bringing death to your family and everyone close to me since I was bloody born. My parents were killed because of the prophecy, Cedric died because he chose to accompany me, Sirius died trying to protect me, your father nearly died guarding that blasted prophecy, your brother forsook your family because of me, Dumbledore died because I was unable to help him! I never saved anyone Ron, I only managed to prevent that more people died because of me! I am dangerous and you should get away from me before I manage to get you killed as well!"

The next thing Ron could remember was the sight of his best mate lying sprawled out on the floor, his left hand cradling his bruised jaw. Ron could feel pain flaring through his right knuckle. He did not care. Rage was rushing through his system, muffling the pain so much that he hardly noticed it.

"Now you will listen to me!" he snarled at his best mate on the floor, not even sure why he was so angry. "If I ever hear you talking shit like that again, I will personally beat you to a pulp. What happened was not your fault, but You-Know-Who's and you bloody well know that! Heck you were not even born when this blasted prophecy was made, so stop beating yourself up about it for god's sake. God's what would Ginny say if she knew what a poor bastard you have become?"

Ron was panting for breath as he finished speaking. For a moment Harry just stared at him in shock and then, to Ron's distress, two single tears ran down his best friend's cheek. Shocked, Ron kneeled down next to Harry, without even the sliver of an idea what to do next.

"Look, Harry, I am sorry…" he started to say, but was interrupted immediately.

"No, I am sorry." said his best friend, his voice choked with unshed tears. "I am sorry for being such a prat, I am sorry for acting like a headless chicken and I am sorry for snapping at you. It's killing me to see Ginny lying in this bloody hospital bed, I just can't help thinking that she will never wake up again and that everything we could had have is gone forever. And I just can't help thinking that it is my fault that it should be me lying in this bed."

Harry promptly started sobbing again, looking more miserable than Ron had ever seen him. Acting on instinct, he pulled his little brother by proxy in a hug, hoping that his attempts to comfort him physically would be more successful than his verbal ones. He was surprised that Harry leaned in immediately in his embrace, burying his face in his chest. Ron lost all track of time as his best mate was sobbing against his chest. He had thought it would be more uncomfortable, but he felt strangely proud of himself. He had managed to comfort someone without screwing horribly up in the process. Hermione was going to be so proud.

Suddenly Harry moved away from the process and looked at Ron with still slightly teary, but clearer and more awaken eyes.

"Better now?" asked Ron.

"Yes, thanks." replied Harry quietly. "I really needed that. If you had not snapped me out of my state, I probably would have cracked up before the night was over."

"No problem." said Ron, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "Come one let's get your face cleaned and get something to eat, you look as though you had not eaten at all today."

With a last long glance at Ginny's still form, Harry nodded and followed Ron out of the room after Scourgifying his face.

- - - - -

One day later, Harry was lying panting on the floor of the Room of Requirements. He was wearing training slacks and an old faded tee-shirt, which were both soaked in sweat. Harry was totally exhausted. His sides were itching, the air was burning in his lungs, blood was pounding in his ears and all muscles in his body were protesting, but for the first time since Ginny's injury he felt something like tranquillity slipping over him. He could not believe how good he had become. He had entered the room almost three hours ago and had immediately started sparring with the training dummies. He never got hit. Not even a single curse managed to penetrate his defence. Harry had lost count of how many of the mindless constructs he had blasted into a billion pieces in the last three hours, but he knew that they had never stood a chance. His curses were flying so fast that they were almost impossible to dodge and so powerful that they were almost impossible to block.

Now, after most of the adrenaline had left his system, Harry started to wonder why he had grown even more powerful after the trip to Riddle Manor. He could feel the magic pulsing in his body even though he had used it almost continuously over the last three hours. It was exhilarating and Harry wondered once again why his control over his power had extended so quickly over the last few days. Then it hit him like a punch.

Ginny.

He had been training so hard, pushing him further than ever before because of all the rage, sorrow and loathing coursing through him since Ginny fell in the coma. He had searched for an outlet for all these negative feelings and had subconsciously found it in his daily training. Hell hath no fury as a woman scorned? Rubbish, hell hath no fury as a lover lusting for revenge! Voldemort would pay for every burn on Ginny's body, on every minute she had been unconscious and in the end he will be begging for Harry to end his miserable excuse of a life! A part of Harry considered it extremely ironic that by seriously harming the thing he treasured most, Voldemort had effectively shovelled his own grave this move, causing Harry to finally reach his full potential.

Harry was roughly yanked out of his musings about his violent revenge on Riddle, by the feeling of his muscles starting to cramp. He knew that he should take a shower soon or he would be sorry indeed. With a single thought, he transformed the room, so it mirrored the prefect bathroom and started to fill the tub with almost scalding water. He peeled off his dirty clothes and slipped into the tub, silently praising himself for taking another set of clothes with him. The walk to the Gryffindor common room, would probably have been already too long. As the hot water worked the kinks out of his aching body, Harry's mind calmed again. He had to think about Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who had been visiting her injured daughter yesterday. He had not been able to scoop up the courage to face them, knowing that he would never be able to bear the sympathy in their eyes without falling completely apart again. He knew that they had been disappointed about his absence and he hoped that Ron had been able to explain it as much as possible. He did not know how much his best mate had chosen to reveal of the circumstances in which Ginny was injured and a part of him hoped that he had stayed as vague as possible. Despite his better knowledge, Harry felt as though Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would blame him for what had happened to Ginny. He knew that it was irrational, that the Weasleys loved him like a seventh son, but blaming himself for the world's hardships was apparently so deeply ingrained in his being that he could not help him.

Ginny.

He never spent a minute without thinking of her anymore. It was all about her and how he was going to make up for his failure to protect her. Harry had never seen his destiny more clearly than now. He was going to find the next Horcrux and then he would face Voldemort. He was not sure if he was going to win, but he knew that he would have to try. And that he would to do it soon. He could feel time slipping through his fingers, like water held in a sieve. It was only a matter of time until Voldemort had enough energy at his hands to take over the country. Harry was not going to let this happen. Also every day brought more causalities in this war waged simply to satisfy and insane man's perverted mind. Harry was going to stop it, so that Ginny had a world left to wake up in. The thought to kill another man made him feel sick, but he knew without doubt that he would kill Tom Riddle without a second of hesitation, if presented with the chance to do so. He could still remember vividly the last expressions on the Death Eater's face and Harry doubted that he would ever forget them. It was strange, he did not even know the man's name and had acted in self-defence but still he could not help feeling guilty. Shaking his head to clear it, Harry stepped out of the tub, dried himself with the towel, which had promptly appeared next to him and slipped into his clean clothes.

"All just for you Ginny." he whispered as he left the room.

- - - - -

Harry was standing in the Room of Requirements, which had once again taken the form of the amphitheatre used often during the PFT lessons. Despite being fixed on the steadily growing audience, his eyes were sightless, his mind to wrapped up in his gloomy thoughts to bother with taking in what he was seeing. He did not want to be here. For what must be the thousandths time in the last few minutes he cursed Ron and Hermione for talking him into doing this rubbish. The PFT lessons had been put on a hold after the trip to Riddle Manor nearly three weeks ago and Harry had had no intention to start them again, still way to affected by the disaster to even think about teaching.

However, Ron and Hermione had considered it a good idea to snap him out of the in their opinion unhealthy routine he had developed since Ginny's injury. He would somehow endure the lessons every day, being distant and not even remotely interested in what the teachers were saying. Despite his lack of interest, his spellwork was better than ever, another sideeffect of his constant practicing in the Room of Requirements. Directly after dinner, he would slip off to the Room of Requirements and trained there until he was too tired to continue. After changing, he would go to the hospital wing and would spent the rest of the day sitting next to Ginny, catching up on his homework while talking to her prone form and in his opinion nothing was wrong with spending his days that way. Ron and Hermione, saw things differently though. In their opinion, Harry should not spend so much time in the hospital wing, because of his still emotionally labile state. Therefore they had encouraged him to find something to take his mind of Ginny's condition, namely the PFT. After a truly spectacular row, Harry had finally agreed to at least continue with the PFT lessons, which was enough to cease his two best friend's nagging.

"Err, Harry, we are ready to start."

Ron's voice penetrated the veil his busy mind had created around his other senses and suddenly Harry became painfully aware of his surroundings. Most of his students were staring at him with a mixture of curiosity and impatience and Harry was sure that he could see traces of sympathy in some eyes. Apparently rumours had been coursing about Ginny's injury and about his involvement in the circumstances under which it was created. Harry did not like it. He did not like it at all, but he knew that he could not leave the room now. Instead of hurrying back to the hospital wing, as his instinct told him, Harry spoke up, his voice magically amplified by the room.

"Welcome to today's Practical Fighting Techniques lesson." he said, feeling the confidence which always took hold of him when he was standing in front of a group of students, return. Today's lesson would be different from all the others before, but equally important, if not more important than any other before. He had learned it the hard way and nearly broke at the experience; maybe it was his protective instinct, but due to some fuzzy reason he just had to talk with his students about it. "It has been a while and I am sorry for the delay, I just did not feel like teaching thanks to some recent events… yes Zacharias?"

Zacharias Smith's arm had shot up in the air as soon as Harry had started speaking. Harry was not able to read the expression on the Hufflepuff's face, but his experience told him to expect the worst.

"Yeah, I wanted to know what exactly has happened to your little girlfriend." said the noisy boy. "I have heard a lot of rumours and would really like to hear the truth about it. I mean you kind of owe it too us, after all we missed two PFT lessons because of it."

For a moment Harry was absolutely dumbstruck at the incredibly blunt way Smith tried to wiggle information out of him. The rest of the room had fallen eerily quiet, apparently awaiting Harry's answer to Smith's demand. Harry could see Ron's and Hermione's livid faces, both as pleased about this question as Harry was. Then, Harry's amazement transformed to white hot anger and he had to use all of his willpower to keep himself from hexing the annoying Hufflepuff into oblivion. He did not know what galled him more, the face that Smith had not even bothered to say Ginny's name or that he had managed to reduce Harry's trip to Riddle Manor to nothing more than an interesting piece of gossip.

"I don't owe you anything Smith." replied Harry through clenched teeth, his voice growing louder with each syllable, while staring furiously into the fifth year's eyes. He could see a growing look of shock on the Hufflepuff's face, who had apparently not expected such an intense reaction. Suddenly Harry found himself shouting at the insolent boy. "HOW DARE YOU ASKING ABOUT GINNY? HOW DARE YOU DECLARING THAT I OWE YOU SOMETHING? YOU DON'T KNOW THE FIRST THING ABOUT MY LIFE OR ABOUT FIGHTING VOLDEMORT OR ABOUT GINNY, SO SHUT THE HELL UP BEFORE I FORGET MYSELF! I DON'T OWE YOU; YOU OWE ME!"

Harry was breathing rapidly after his outburst, trying to get the rage coursing through his system back under control. He succeeded, slowly but surely and soon enough he spoke up again.

"Sorry." he said quietly, his gaze once again resting on Smith, who had no moved a muscle since Harry had shouted at him. "I should not have done that, you could not have know that I would be so edgy about it. What I am going to tell you in today's lesson is not a way to win a fight; it is how to deal with losing one. I learned during the last few weeks that the aftermath of a battle can be even worse than the battle itself. I have taught you how to fight over the last few months and some of you are going to leave Hogwarts this year. At the moment the school is a kind of save shelter from the troubled world outside and the moment you step out of the school's gates for the last time, you will be at war. War is not limited to an area or to a special group of society. War does not care about how old you are or how much things you still have to do or whom you are leaving behind. Even if you don't pick a side, odds are high that you will be trapped between them anyway. Today, I will try to teach you how to live with the knowledge that you or someone you hold dear could be dead the next day."

Harry paused for a moment, both to have some more time to think about what he was going to say and to let his last statement sink in.

"Remember, what I am going to tell you is an advice, not an order. There is not the single right way to deal with a war and of course you are free to find your own way. Personally, I would ask myself every day before going to sleep what I would do, if I died tomorrow. Imagine dieing after having a huge row with a person you care about, without ever having the chance to make up. A horrible thought if you ask me. You the first part of my advice is: do not postpone things any more! You are waiting for the perfect chance to ask a girl to go out with you? Well, better get a move on, you or her could be dead tomorrow! Having never made up with a close relative? Now is the time or it may be too late forever. Think about what you always wanted to do before you die and do it, of course only if you don't hurt anybody in the process. However, it is important that you don't twist your life completely because of the war. I don't want you to quite school, just because you think you will die tomorrow. Don't throw away the possibility of having a normal life, Voldemort is not worth that. Live as you would live normally, but keep the possibility of dieing always in mind. I know it sounds paradox, but trust me it helps. This way will all still be sane if the whole bloody war is over and we have won and we will win, won't we?"

A deafening cheer went up in the room, as the audience declared its desire to come out victorious out of the raging war.

"Alright." continued Harry, now grinning broadly despite his previous bad mood. Maybe Ron and Hermione had been right in talking him into this. "You want to win? Then show me what you can do!"

- - - - -

"Too bad sucker, have a nice death." said Sandro, his face twisted in an eerie smile, as he ripped the fallen Death Eater's head off with his bare claws. The shade assassin was standing in the smoking remains of a Muggle village, which had been raided by Death Eaters only a few minutes ago. It had been a small raid, consisting of only five, mostly low rank dark wizards, but Sandro considered it as good as any place to start his quest for revenge. His ego had been bruised severely by the fact that he had been cheated by Severus Snape and Voldemort and he had vowed to himself that he would make the self-proclaimed Dark Lord pay dearly for betraying him. Sandro was not stupid enough to attack Voldemort directly, he knew that he was no match for the abundance of power the dark mage had acquired over the years; he was more than a match for the average Death Eater and not even Voldemort would be able to take over the country without any followers to support him.

The shade took another look around the village. He was standing at the cross of three roads, which created a small plaza. Snow had fallen some hours ago, but its pristine white surface had been almost completely transformed to blood red, having soaked up the blood of the Muggle victims, as well as that of the Death Eater's. Bodies were lying around haphazardly giving the place the appearance of a twisted graveyard. The surviving villagers were starting to creep out of their hiding places and the shade considered this the right time to vanish from the crime scene. It would not take long for the Ministry of Magic to arrive and Sandro had no desire to find out what the aurors would do if they encountered him standing in the middle of a field of muggle bodies with to fallen Death Eaters resting at his feet.

Just as he was to about to fly away, he noticed a small bottle which apparently had fallen out of the now headless Death Eater's robe during the brief struggle his last victim had provided. Careful not to break the fragile looking bottle, Sandro picked it up and brought it up to its eyes to examine it. He recognized what it was almost immediately, once having to steal one from its owner almost two hundred years ago.

"A Thought Bottle." he said to himself. "I wonder what kind of dark secrets Lord Voldemort has to hide."

Pocketing the bottle in the dark robe he was wearing, the shade flew away in the nightly sky.


	14. Into the Fortress

a/n: It's Christmas Eve and I just finished writing this little chapter after having dinner with my family. I already had my presents (in Germany we usually open them already on Christmas Eve around six o'clock after going to church) and thought that you poor souls, who still have to wait for them, could use a little early present.

Merry Christmas!

It was a chilly and otherwise ordinary evening in mid March, which found Harry sitting at Ginny's side in the hospital wing, a habit he still had not given up and was not planning to give up anytime soon. He had finished all of his homework and had run out of topics to discuss with his girlfriend's prone form. Trying to fight down the rage and sorrow which still threatened to overwhelm him whenever he looked at her, Harry started to scan the hospital wing for any possible distraction. To his relief, he spotted today's issue of the _Evening Prophet_ lying on a table a few feet away. Maybe Hermione had left it here when she had visited Ginny an hour before. Harry picked it up and started idly flipping through the pages. After a few minutes of browsing through a sea of bad news, one small article caught his eye.

_Startling Archaeological Found – Legendary Staff of Ravenclaw Recovered_

_The British scholar Gerad Summersberg has found Rowena Ravenclaws legendary staff during an archaeological expedition in Albania, originally looking for remains of the ancient necromantic wizarding culture which dwelled the country almost two thousand years ago. Summersberg stumbled over the precious item while digging in a secluded valley, which had apparently been used in the past as a ritual holding place of the old Albanian wizard population. However the circumstances of the recovery are most astounding. Apparently the staff had been placed in a golden box and buried in the middle of the summoning circle, which marked the middle of the ritual place, shrouded in protective enchantments. However, after almost a week of hard effort, Summersberg and his team managed to retrieve the artefact, but unfortunately two members of the expedition lost their life in the process. Summersberg decided to turn the staff over to British Ministry of Magic wanting to grant all of the members of his glorious country access to a antiquity that rare. After a thorough checking for any remaining dangerous curses the wand will be displayed in the Museum of Great Witches and Wizards in London, England_

Harry put down the paper, his mind working furiously. Albania, a precious artefact which had belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the Hogwarts' founders, shrouded in a ton of protective enchantments. It sounded an awful lot like the other Horcruxes Harry had found. Could that be the last missing Horcrux? But why on earth had it been hidden in Albania? Unless… Did not Dumbledore say that Voldemort hid in Albania during his incorporeal time? But why? Surely there were about a dozen more secluded places than Albania. Some mountain in the Himalayan, for example, or a deserted island in an archipelago in the Caribbean. What was so special about Albania that Voldemort had chosen it as his sanctuary? Maybe some of followers had been from Albania and he had hoped to contact them in their homeland. Had he been there before and had chosen this hiding place for his familiarity with the surroundings? If that had been the case, then why had he been in Albanian in the first place and when? Did not Dumbledore say that Riddle vanished after having quit his job at Burke's so many years ago? Could he have slipped off to Albania after stealing Hufflepuff's cup and Slytherin's locket from Mrs. Smith? But that still did not explain why he would go there in the first place, unless...

A sudden brainwave caused Harry to immediately jump into action. Picking up the discarded paper once again, he rapidly skimmed through the article until he had found the sentence he had been looking for: a_ncient, necromantic wizarding culture_. That was the missing part of the puzzle. Voldemort had always been obsessed with the thought of getting immortal and without doubt he would have found any information about necromancy highly interesting and the possibility of laying his hands on ancient necromantic spell would have drawn Voldemort to Albania like a moth would be drawn to a flame. Harry did not know what kind of knowledge had been stored in the ancient valley in Albania, but apparently it had fascinated Riddle so much that he had decided to leave a part of his black soul behind. A shudder travelled down his spine as he remembered the black fire consuming Ginny and for the moment he was glad not to know whatever hideous spells his nemesis still had up the sleeve.

Harry sat down again, scratching a few stubbles on his chin, while thinking hard. So he suspected that the wand was a Horcrux, but what was he supposed to do about it? The odds were high that Voldemort had already learned about the resurfacing of the wand. If it really was a Horcrux, then he would without doubt send Death Eaters to retrieve it or he would go to the museum himself. Harry doubted that breaking into the museum would be easy, regarding the abundance of precious artefacts stored in it. It was just bound to be shrouded in protective enchantments, which rendered a break-in close to impossible, not counting the guards which were possibly placed inside. It would be hard to obtain the possible Horcrux, unless… A grin formed on Harry's face as a new idea formed in his brain. It was the perfect way, he would not have to risk breaking into the museum only to find out that the staff was not a Horcrux and he would not have to worry about any of the protections.

He was going to position himself outside of the building and would simply wait until the Death Eaters showed up and forced they way inside. Following them he would overwhelm them as soon as they had found the Horcrux and disappear, leaving their stunned bodies behind for the Ministry to find. All he was going to need was his Invisibility Cloak and a bit of patience. However, he should hurry, because he did not know when Voldemort was going to launch the assault to recover one of his precious soul pieces. Harry wondered what he was going to do if Voldemort or his goons did not show up at all. Was that proof that the wand was just a mundane item or had Voldemort just decided to wait some time until the excitement about the archaeological found had died down? In each case he had to get going or he may miss the only chance to find the last missing Horcrux. Harry cast a long last look at Ginny's prone form before hurrying out of the room.

- - - - -

The chilly March air surrounded Harry like clammy blanket, chilling him to the bone. He was standing next to the museum's main entrance, hidden under his father's Invisibility Cloak, waiting for disaster to strike. It had been easier than he had thought to sneak out of Hogwarts and avoiding Ron and Hermione in the process. He had returned to the common room after a spectacular sprint from the hospital wing and had entered it, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. He had met Hermione halfway towards his dorm, where his cloak had been resting in his trunk and had told her some rubbish about having to get his potion book, so he could finish his homework in the hospital wing. For a moment he had thought she was not going to believe him, but fortunately Ron had chosen this moment to stumble into the room and his presence had blown Harry's behaviour straight from her mind.

Harry allowed himself a brief grin under his cloak, who would have thought that the whole sexual tension between his two best friends would be so useful? Of course he felt kind of bad for keeping them in the dark, knowing how upset they were going to be when they found him missing, but one look at Ginny's prone form had made his decision clear. He was not going to see another friend injured in this war between Voldemort and himself. He was going to end it on his own and he was going to end it soon. Harry had decided that he was going to attack the Fortress of Woe as soon as he had destroyed the next Horcrux. Voldemort was bound to be waiting there and so was Naigini the last of Riddle's soul pieces. Riddle was no fool, he was not going to let his snake wandering around unprotected, knowing that someone was looking for his Horcruxes. Harry wondered if Voldemort knew who was destroying his precious immortality one by one and he could not help the grin forming on his face at the thought of Riddle cursing whomever was annihilating the thing most important to him.

Rubbing his hands together to at least slightly banish the biting cold, Harry wondered if anything would happen here tonight at all. Knowing his luck the Death Eaters would choose another way than the main entrance to enter the building, which would cause his entire carefully developed plan to come crashing down in flames. However, Harry was fairly confident that they would choose this way, both because the side entrance was farther away from the part of the museum where the staff was displayed and because he knew that Voldemort liked nothing more than showing all of the wizarding world how powerful he was.

He had probably told his goons that it was only a symbolic act to demonstrate how ruthless and unstoppable they were. Was there a better way to demonstrate that the rulers of the country were about to change than snatching away an artefact which had only recently placed in Britain's most famous wizard museum under the special protection of the Ministry? Riddle had always been proficient at keeping his followers out in the dark, masking his own weakness, fearing to be overthrown by his allies and enemies alike. Harry knew that more than one Death Eaters was highly ambitious and all were ready to kill to achieve their goals. Voldemort was almost impossible to beat in a duel, but if ten or more Death Eaters teamed up, he would be hard pressed to be victorious in a fight indeed. Therefore Harry considered it unlikely that Voldemort would be in the museum tonight, a simple theft was much too mundane to require his presence and it would have looked more than a bit suspicious if he had taken part in the operation. Of course most Death Eaters would have been too foolish to correctly interpret their master's behaviour, but if one or two of the more intelligent ones would be able to add two and two together, Voldemort's position could be severely endangered.

Approximately half an hour later, a series of sharp cracks disturbed the silent night air. Harry allowed himself a brief smile, as he spotted the forms of five Death Eaters next to the museum's entrance, obviously just having Apparated there. As he had predicted, Voldemort was absent from the group, but Harry could spot Bellatrix Lestrange standing among the other Death Eaters, barking orders in a way only the leader of an operation could. A wave of burning anger washed over Harry as he watched Sirius' murderer walking around unpunished. For a moment all he wanted was to throw his cloak away and to fight his way through the Death Eater ranks until he reached Bellatrix and could pay her back for all the pain she had put him through. The notion only lasted a few heartbeats, but Harry had already his wand in his hand at the time he regained control of himself. Breathing as deeply as he dared, considering the not really friendly company, he tried to remember his goal: getting the Horcrux. After all Voldemort was the one you are after, not some mindless minion like Lestrange! It worked, though slowly, and Harry's mind cleared just in time to watch the Death Eaters breaking through whatever protective enchantments placed on the door. As silently as possible, Harry followed them inside into the museum's dark interior.

The moment he stepped over the threshold, Harry knew that something was terribly wrong. He saw two flashes of green a few feet in front of him, followed by the dull sound of at least one human body hitting the ground. Damn! The slightly sick feeling in his stomach, told Harry without doubt that the museum's guards had just been overpowered and slain by the intruders and the feeling turned to assurance only a few moments later. As he followed his enemies further into the building, listening to their excited whispers about how easy the break-in was, he briefly spotted two uniformed bodies lying on the ground. It was too dark to clearly see their faces, but Harry knew that they would wear expression of utmost terror, like all victims of the Avada Kedavra did. Barely two minutes had passed and already two innocents had died, the night was not starting good.

Harry followed his involuntary tour guides for about another five minutes, until they reached the big hall in which Ravenclaw's staff had been placed. It had been placed in a showcase in the middle of the room, obviously the centrepiece of the exhibition. The room's walls were covered with glass cabinets, containing other artefacts and pieces of information about the life of the famous Hogwarts' founder. Harry stopped at the door, opting not to go further into the room until the Death Eaters had trigger or dispelled all magical wards and traps placed in the room. He watched intrigued as his nemesis' minions started to tinker with the display, apparently casting a highly advanced dispelling charm with their combined power.

For a few agonizingly long minutes nothing happened. Then a brief flashed of white light erupted from the Death Eater's wand points, hitting the display case containing the wand. His enemies seemed to have waited for that to happen, because they whooped in joy and immediately smashed in the glass, wanting to get the precious item into their clutches. After a brief squabble about who was going to have the honour of presenting it to their master, Bellatrix lifted the staff out of the now ruined showcase carefully. Then the unexpected happened.

Out of nowhere five stunners slammed into the surprised Death Eaters before they had any chance to react, each spell hitting his target dead on. Almost immediately, Nymphadora Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody and three other Order members appeared in the room, each of them clutching an Invisibility Cloak. An ambush!

"Well, that was easier than I thought." said Tonks, strolling over to check if really all Death Eaters were helpless. Her face darkened as her gaze fell on Bellatrix, obviously she had not forgotten who had killed Sirius either. "Why do you think You-Know-Who sent her to steal something as mundane as the staff? She is a high-ranked Death Eater; shouldn't she be hunting Muggles out there or being his personal maid?"

"There seems to be more to the staff than meets the eye." growled Moony, his magical eye spinning to search the room for other intruders. Harry pressed himself against the wall, knowing that an Invisibility Cloak was not very useful against the grizzled ex-Auror, holding his breath and hoping that it would be enough to mask his presence to the Order members, not fancying having to fight his way through his impromptu allies. For a heartbeat, Harry thought that Moody had spotted him, but the old man's scarred face gave no indication that he had indeed become aware of him.

"Let's get the bastards outside and transfer them to headquarters." continued Moody. "Minerva will decide what we are going to do with them."

"Alright." said Tonks, waving her wand so that the Death Eater's body started to float like a parody of a balloon. "It's a shame that we could not warn the guards though, they looked like decent blokes."

"Causalities of war." replied Moody simply. "You four go ahead, I'll take the staff and will scout the area once again."

Tonks rolled her eyes at Mad-Eye's paranoia, but apparently chose not to comment on the subject. She and the other three Order member's left the room, levitating the Death Eaters behind them, having to get outside to escape the area of effect of the Anti-Apparation wards which shrouded the building. Harry was forced to press himself even deeper against the wall to let them pass and even this way, the hem of his cloak got caught for a moment at one of the floating bodies, briefly exposing his feet to everyone looking. Fortunately, Tonks and the other departing Order members were too occupied with getting their prisoners outside to notice him.

"Do you want to tell what you are doing here Potter?" asked Moody as soon as his colleagues were out of earshot. "You know that I can see you, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do." replied Harry, taking off the cloak and tossing it to the ground. "Why didn't you tell Tonks and the others?"

"I wanted to find out why you are here first and I am more the confident that I can handle a seventeen years old schoolboy." answered Moody with something like a smile on his ravaged face. "I assume that you came here because of the staff."

"Yes, there is indeed more to the staff than meets the eye, but it is completely useless to anyone except Voldemort or me."

"And you think that I am going to believe that?" asked Moody, frowning. Despite his calm façade, Harry knew that the old Auror was not quite sure how to handle the current situation. "You have not really been a good ally to the order in the recent past and I could simply take the staff to McGonagall to unlock its secret. We will know if you are indeed telling the truth soon."

"I can't wait so long." replied Harry, already channelling a part of his power to ready himself for the fight he believed was soon to come. "If you give it to me, Voldemort is going to die tonight, if don't then he will continue to wreck this country. In my opinion the choice is clear, but if you don't want to make one, I can still take the staff by force. I am more than confident that I can handle an old man, who has been out of service for at least ten years."

For a moment Moody looked too shocked to speak, obviously having somehow sensed Harry's tapping into his hidden powers. Then he simply nodded, accepting defeat. "Alright lad, I know when I have lost. Here, catch and good luck."

With these words, he tossed the staff at Harry, who caught it deftly, but kept one of his eyes on Mad-Eye all the time, expecting him to take advantage of his temporarily distracted state. However, he needn't have bothered for the ex-Auror was just watching him calmly.

"Thanks, Mad-Eye." replied Harry. "Oh and sorry, but I don't want McGonagall to find out now"

Harry launched a powerful stunner which slammed straight through the shield the surprised Auror had barely managed to erect, knocking him out cold. Harry slipped back under his cloak and hurried out of the museum.

- - - - -

Half an hour later, Harry once again walked into the Hogwarts hospital wing. He was in a hurry, knowing that it was only a matter of time, until Tonks and the others would return to find Moody stunned on the floor. He had sprinted back to school as quickly as possible, gone straight to the Room of Requirements and had there destroyed the Horcrux, all the time still hidden from view by his cloak. Fortunately had stored everything he was going to need for tonight in the room, knowing that it would be his first stop when judgement day arrived. He was wearing his full dragon armour set, feeling in need of as good a protection he could get. Just one more stop before he would have to face his destiny. The thought was exhilarating and disturbing at the same time. On the one hand he was glad that his almost eternal struggle with Voldemort was finally coming to an end, but on the other hand the thought of once again facing his nemesis in a duel scared him out off his mind. Well, at least he could meet Riddle on his own terms, rather than waiting for him to come to him.

"Hey Ginny, I am back." he whispered to his girlfriend's silent form after checking the room for any signs of Madame Pomfrey. "It could be the last time and the fact and you can't even kiss me goodbye. But don't worry Ginny, Riddle will pay for everything he has done to you. And then I will come back so that we can live our lives together, you will see. Be a good girl and keep these for Ron and Hermione, I have of course included one for yourself."

Harry produced three sealed envelops from one of his armour vest's numerous pockets. It were the goodbye letters he had written during his countless hours in the hospital wing, one for Ron, one for Hermione and one for Ginny. He had considered it handy to have them finished before he actually went away; knowing that every second could be precious when he finally jumped into action. He placed them on Ginny's stomach, so that she would find them as soon as she awoke.

"Good bye Ginny." he whispered and kissed her gently on the lips. Most of her bandages had been removed already, leaving only a bit of irritated skin behind. Following a sudden impulse, Harry slipped the silver ring Ginny had given him for Christmas from his finger and placed it in her uninjured hand.

"Keep it safe." he whispered before putting on his dragon leather gloves and Invisibility Cloak and walking out of the room, not knowing that he would never enter Hogwarts again.


	15. Pain and Suffering

a/n: Finally, the penultimate chapter!. I am not sure when I will update next, because my exams are approaching and require at least some of my time and attention. Enjoy!

Harry appeared at the base of a small forest, hidden from view by his reliable Invisibility Cloak. Ahead of him the Fortress of Woe loomed, its blood red granite walls glittering in the last few rays of the dying sun. Harry took his time studying Voldemort's refuge, wanting to find out as much as possible before entering a place that dangerous. The Fortress was titanic. Its size defied vision, seduced it and defeated it. In the falling twilight, its walls seemed to go on forever and while he did not know if it was a mere trick played to his eyes by the protective enchants, which were without doubt shrouding the walls, or indeed the by-product of that vast a size, he knew that in each case that he would have to find an entrance.

Easier said than done. All Harry could see were the blood-red, slightly glowing marble stones, adorned with frescos of twisted human faces and topped with black, almost foot-long spikes. As his gaze searched for any doorway, Harry suddenly spotted a dark shape towering over the Fortress, barely visible in the twilight of the evening. It was a tower, dwarfing even the gigantic Fortress.

Thrice as high as the Fortress and made of black marble instead of red, it was enthroned over the massive building like a king over his country. Harry could not make out where exactly it met the Fortress, but at least he knew the general direction in which it lay. He guessed that this probably was where Voldemort had erected his personal chamber, having gotten to know his nemesis arrogance very well over the last years.

Harry was raking his brain for any idea. Did he know any spell to find hidden doors? Was it possible to fly over the wall? He did not have a broomstick with him but maybe he could transform one of the trees into a ladder… but Necraal was just bound to have placed a bunch of protective enchantments on the wall preventing just that, wasn't he? Maybe he could blast his way through, but that would surely give his presence away and it was not at all sure that he had enough energy at his disposal to severely damage the walls.

A sudden plopping sound caused Harry to jerk out of his musing. Glancing around, he quickly spotted the sound's source. The wall in front of him was changing from blood-red to ebony, changing its texture as well as his colour. What a minute ago had been solid stone turned to black wood, which had turned as hard as iron over the eons of its existence. Right in front of Harry's eyes a door appeared, as high as the wall and at least twice as broad as it was high. It swung open without a creak, apparently in good shape despite its age, revealing the forms of at least thirty Death Eaters, all of them dressed in their trademark black robes and masks. Harry pressed himself at the Fortress' wall next to the door, realizing that this was his chance to enter the building without having to worry about any protective enchantments.

While the Death Eaters were busy leaving their stronghold, whispering excitedly with each other over whatever evil scheme their master had cooked up again, Harry seized the moment and slipped inside the fortress, careful not to step on anybody's toes in the process and giving himself away. His fingers were itching with the desire to curse his nemesis' goons into oblivion, but Harry forced himself to remain calm, knowing that despite his tremendous process over the year past, he would not stand a chance against thirty Death Eaters. Harry felt the familiar feeling of stepping into the area of effect of Anti-Appartion wards; apparently Voldemort was not too fond of unexpected visitors.

A few stealthy steps later, Harry found himself standing in a large entrance hall. Two great pillars supported the slightly domed ceiling and the room was bare except for two largish coal braziers dousing the room in flickering twilight. Two doors made of the same black wood as the front door were located the left and right end of the room and Harry knew that both of them hid corridors leading deeper into the building. The only question was which of the two ways to take. After a short moment of contemplation Harry chose the one to his right.

- - - - -

It was a good night for murder or at least Sandro though so. The moon stood blood red in the sky, a sight he had not seen for a long time indeed. The last time he had been walking the night under a red orb, he had still been human. Memories started to rise in him like, bubbling back to the surface like methane in a swamp. For the first time in at least fifty years, Sandro remembered.

He had been working for the Ministry that night – the fact that assassins were considered ordinary murderers did not diminish their usefulness and in the past the Ministry had been less than hesitant to employ them, should they deem it appropriate – searching for a troublesome group of smugglers who unfortunately enjoyed the protection of several high-ranked members of the Wizengamont. Therefore it had not been Aurors haunting them, but Sandro and two of his fellow assassins. Sandro had never bothered to learn their names – relationships between assassins usually did not run very deep and were terminated very swiftly – and at first everything had worked just fine. They had busted the place together, bringing quick death to every one of the smugglers, who had been meeting in a mausoleum on an old Muggle cemetery this day. What Sandro did not know, however, was that his two fellow assassins were old friends, both with the nasty habit of cheating their partners.

After the job had been done, they knocked him out cold from behind, stuffed him into a coffin, threw him in one of the open graves and filled it with earth. Then they walked away, planning to take his share for themselves. Sandro could still remember waking up in the dark and tight coffin, he could still feel the way the air seemed to be growing thinner with each rapid breath and he could still remember the all consuming hatred he had felt at his two cheating partners. It had not taken long for him to pass out and then… he had been reborn.

He still did not know what had happened; one moment he was struggling for his life and the next moment he was able to free himself in a few heartbeats. He had not taken the time to thoroughly examine his new form that night; he had been too busy taking revenge. He had considered it appropriate that he returned the favour to his would-be murderers, after teaching them a lesson in pain, of course.

Tonight he would teach Voldemort a lesson, showing the bastard that cheating an honourable assassin was a bad and foolish thing to do. Currently he was flying in the frigid night air, towards his final destination: Voldemort's stronghold, the Fortress of Woe. Sandro was not entirely sure if it was one of that good an idea to break into the building, but he was determined to show the self-declared Dark Lord how dangerous it was to mess with him. Of course Sandro was not stupid enough to attack Voldemort himself; no he was just going to kill as many of his henchmen as possible and maybe disrupt whatever hideous plan his enemy had planned. In fact Sandro did not really care what he did, as long as it really ruined Voldemort's day.

Smiling at the mere thought, he landed in front of the infamous Fortress. To a mere mortal the Fortress' walls might have appeared bare, but to his eyes they were aglow in a darkish red colour. Necromantic wards! Like every undead being, Sandro harboured an unnatural affinity to this darkest kind of magic and was almost completely immune to it. The Fortress' walls might have been impassable for anyone alive, but for him it was as easy as walking through an open door. Smiling eerily, the shade floated over the wall.

- - - - -

Harry pressed himself flatly against the pillar, hoping that the small patch of shadow created by it would be enough to mask his presence to the crowd ten feet under him. He was standing in a large hall like room, or to be more precise on one of the room's four rectangular balconies. They were approximately ten feet broad and connected with each other, creating a second level of the hall, allowing anyone standing on them a perfect view of the central part of the ground level. The room itself was square, with each side being roughly forty feet long, and had a domed ceiling, which was supported by a system of pillars located next to the room's walls with a big circular stairway connect the room's two levels. Each of the pillars speared through the balconies on its way to the stone it had been built to stabilize, turning the upper level into a bizarre maze of light shadow, due to the torches placed on them. The floor of the room was completely bare, except for a great amount of chairs which had been pushed away towards the walls to make room for the gruesome show taking currently place.

A circle of eight Death Eaters were standing in a circle around the curled up body of another young man who was lying on the floor. Every now and then someone would kick, punch or hex the helpless victim and, judging by his appearance the torture, had been going on for quiet a while.

Harry had entered the room after having sneaked through the Fortress for at least half an hour without meeting a single soul, through the door only seven feet away from him, on the same balcony he was standing on. He could not see any other possible entrances to the room, but figured that there was another door on the ground level. Fortunately Harry had been extremely careful and silent when entering the room and therefore had been able to evade getting noticed by the Death Eaters. At least until now.

Harry gritted his teeth as the man downstairs let out another piercing scream. He wanted to help him, but he knew that it was more than a bit risky seeking a fight when being so obviously outnumbered and that he would risk alarming all of the Death Eaters in the Fortress and maybe even Voldemort himself should he do so. Just as Harry had been close to decided to back away and to search for another way, something caught his eye that changed everything. There was another man in the room which he had not noticed until now, a man standing in the shadows a few feet away of the crowed of torturers. Even though it was hard to recognize him in the dim light, Harry knew immediately who it was: Severus Snape.

White hot rage flooded his system banishing all thoughts of flight. Before he could give his decision a second thought, he had already left the security of the small dark spot next to the pillar and was already running towards the stairways, whipping out his wand in the process. Harry heard the Death Eaters shouting in surprise just as he was starting his descent on the stairs and Harry knew that it would not take long for the first Unforgivable Curses to be launched in his direction.

However, Harry had no intention to let the Death Eaters fire their hideous spells. Knowing that sometime attacking was the best way of defending oneself, Harry opted for a more aggressive role in the encounter. Harry used the Blinking Charm to teleport himself down the stairs, both to surprise his enemies and to dodge any curses currently being fired and opened fire himself. His first curse slammed into the still huddled together Death Eaters like a Bludger, painting the room crimson for a moment and flinging them through the air like discarded toys. Fortunately they had been moving towards him, so that his attack had not damaged the helpless victim. Harry felt a satisfied grin slipping on his face and wicked glee bubbled to the surface of his mind, mixing with the anger and fear to form an exhilaration cocktail. He was surprised, but pleased at how effective the Starfire Charm had been as a battle opener and he made a mental note to keep this effectiveness in mind for eventual future battles.

Harry never stopped firing while making his way deeper into the room, making sure to always keep on moving to avoid becoming an easy target. He knew his Shield Charms could deflect most ordinary spells, but he would rather save as much as possible of his energy for the big showdown against Voldemort. His first strike had caused thick cloud of grey smoke, which had quickly taken over most of the room, blanketing the combatants under a semi-transparent veil. Using his ability to feel other person's minds, however, Harry was able to figure out the general direction of each of his opponents quite clearly. He used this advantage to direct Stunners through the fog, hoping to catch the Death Eaters of guard, so that they would be unable to block or to sidestep the spell. The almost blinded Death Eaters, who were only slowly adapting the situation, responded in same manner but with much less accuracy. Their aim was sloppy at best and while Harry did not have a hard time dancing around their curses, his shots were almost always hitting their intended target.

However his advantage did not last for a long time. Harry had just launched another one of his powerful stunners at an unsuspecting Death Eaters and had heard the satisfying dull thud of a body hitting the ground, as the hairs on the back of his neck started to prickle alarmingly. Acting completely on instinct, he rolled sideward just in time to dodge no less than three Avada Kedavras which would have hit him square in the back a second later. Wheeling around to find out who had been attacking him, Harry spotted four Death Eaters a few feet away, who had taken cover between the various pillars, spreading themselves over the room to force him to divert his fire between them. Obviously the area of effect of his first spell had impressed them. He also discovered that the smoke which had been masking him was gone, probably banished by one of his foes. Snape was nowhere to be seen, but Harry could feel that at least two other persons were in the room, standing somewhere behind him, where the protecting smoke was surely slowly disappearing as well. This did not look particularly good. A crossfire with six opponents, who had an unhealthy love for Unforgivables, was not a situation Harry was looking forward to experience. His Shield Charms were all but useless against Death Eaters and even with his ability to teleport it would be a rough fight. Maybe he would be able to overpower one or two of the Death Eaters by blinking behind them and catching them off guard, but sooner or later the others would realize what he was planning and would start to fight defensively, forcing Harry to change tactics because the Blinking Charm would drain too much of his energy when used for a long time. Therefore he needed another strategy, he still needed to fight Riddle after all.

Thinking quickly, Harry did indeed come up with an idea. Just as the four Death Eaters were about to launch their second volley of curses, Harry raised his wand as well, squeezed his eyes shut and bellowed a single incantation.

"Solaris!"

Even through his closed eyelids the following explosion of light nearly blinded him. He could hear the surprised screams of the Death Eaters as their vision was getting eradicated and threw himself onto the ground to avoid any blind shots his enemies were probably going to launch. Harry carefully cracked his eyes open and was pleased to find the Death Eaters fumbling around blindly, most of them clutching their injured eyes. However, that did not stop his enemies from firing their curses. Several of them were shooting stunners and Cutting Curses blindly into the room, hoping to hit their attacker by chance and apparently not caring if they hit one of their allies in the process. Knowing that his advantage would be temporary at best, Harry jumped into action, Blinking behind the closest Death Eater and sending him to sleep with a well placed Stunner.

Before the now prone body had hit the ground Harry had already teleported to the next one, repeating the same process there, having to block one of his blinded opponent's Cutting Charms before being able to send him down to the ground. He managed to down two other Death Eaters before getting rudely interrupted by an Avada Kedavra narrowly missing his head. Turning around Harry discovered that the last remaining Death Eater had apparently regained his eyesight and was more than eager to revenge his fallen comrades. Harry sidestepped another deadly jet green of light and retailed in kind with a supercharged stunner, which slammed right through his foes hastily created shield and caused him to join the other Death Eaters in their blessed unconsciousness. Only Harry remained standing in the large hall, surrounded by his enemy's lifeless bodies. The adrenaline, which had been set free in his body during the struggle, was still pumping through his veins and, combined with the constantly rising amount of serotonin set free thanks to his victory, created an absolutely exhilarating feeling.

Harry felt powerful, omnipotent even, as he quickly recalled the battle, knowing that he had been completely superior despite being outnumbered during the skirmish. He took a wicked glee in the fact that he had easily bested Voldemort's goons, happy about finally being able to defend himself without an outsider's help. For these few precious moments, Harry understood why Voldemort enjoyed killing and torturing so much; not because he because he enjoy to see other people suffer – though he surely regarded this as the icing on the cake, the bloody sadist – it was about the absolute power he wielded during these times. He could decide who lived and who died, who suffered and who did not, who was rewarded and who was punished. It was playing god and it felt great.

The sudden presence of another person in the room yanked Harry out of his thoughts. Someone was standing behind him and he knew without doubt who it was.

"Don't try it Snape", he growled, before turning around slowly to face his former Potions teacher, ready to dodge an attack all the time during the process. "Where did you slip off to? I missed your during the fight."

"I am not foolish enough to engage an unknown enemy without a plan", answered Snape, the familiar sneer in its place. He was wearing his Death Eater robes, minus the mask, and Harry thought that he was finally showing his true colours. "I slipped out of the room and waited until the noise died down, but had I known that it was _you_ barging in, I could have stayed here. I thought someone really dangerous was coming here. What is this, one of your trademark suicide missions, Potter?"

Harry could feel Snape trying to probe his mind – probably trying to find out if he had come alone or had brought reinforcements – but his mental assault sizzled harmlessly against his Occlumency Shields.

"I have learned quite a bit since we met for the last time Snape and this time no assassin is restraining me", said Harry, feeling an evil grin slipping on his face. He was surprised how strongly the sight of his former teacher affected him. Already he had a hard time restraining himself from cursing Snape into a piece of jelly on the floor. While the chance of finally getting revenge for the endless hours of tormenting the potion master had put him through and for his betrayal which ended in Dumbledore's death was indeed tempting, Harry hoped that he could wheedle out some information out of the hot-tempered Death Eater.

"It is not very polite to peek into other person's head, you know?" he asked the greasy, haired man and was pleased to see the slight look of shook on Snape's face. Apparently his former teacher had not expected getting bested by his pupil.

"Well it seems that you have indeed learned a thing or two, over the last few months", hissed the potion master, after having recovered from his shock. "I had not considered it possible that a man with your incredible lack of self-control would ever be able to master the art that is Occlumency, but apparently I have been wrong. Well, it does not matter anyway; the Dark Lord will blast through your pitiful defence. Prepare yourself for your death Potter, I will beat you and deliver you personally to my master, Crucio!"

Harry was prepared for Snape's attack and easily sidestepped the Unforgivable and blocked the Stunner Snape had launched directly afterwards with faked difficulty. He did not know how many tricks Snape had up the sleeve, and opted for keeping the full extend of his own powers hidden for as long as possible, hoping that his enemy would underestimate him and therefore be making a grave mistake. The rage which had been ignited as he had laid eyes on his former teacher was flaring with new intensity as Snape started attacking him, causing the memories of Dumbledore's last moments to resurface in his mind.

"You will have to try harder, Sniffelus", said Harry, while blocking yet another of Snape's curses, a Levicorpus this time. He could feel Snape's attempts to probe his mind, but managed to block them continually. Without this advantage the former teacher still was a formidable foe, but Harry was confident that he would be able to beat him. Still, a part of him wanted to find out why Snape had chosen Voldemort's side over Dumbledore's in the most important situation, not to forgive him for anything he had done, but to find out what turned men into traitors.

"You know what I am wondering about, Snape?" asked Harry and continued without even bothering to wait for an answer. "Why a coward like you chose to kill Dumbledore, even though it meant giving up your position as a double agent? I mean, it was not that bad a situation to be in, you could simply sit back and wait which side would be victorious, being too valuable for both of them to risk getting killed. Smart, but cowardly, but you have been a coward for all your life and old habits die hard, don't they?"

Harry's taunts seemed to indeed have an effect on the normally so emotionally guarded potion master, for his face twisted into an even uglier than normal sneer and his face had taken the colour of sour milk.

"Don't call me a coward, Potter!" snarled Snape, shooting a Cutting Curse at Harry as if to emphasize his point. Harry noticed that his aim was sloppy; apparently he was really getting under his skin. Snape continued speaking just as his curse sizzled harmlessly against Harry's shield. "You want to know why I chose the Dark Lord over Dumbledore? Fine, I am going to tell you! The Dark Lord promised me what Dumbledore could not or did not want to offer: immortality! I had thought for a while that the old fool knew the secret just as my master did and that he was too noble or too stupid to seize it, but I guess we will never know now, will we? When I saw him lying their weakened on the tower, I knew what I had to do. I was tired of getting pushed around, tired of serving two masters at once, I finally wanted my reward. I knew that Dumbledore was not going to give it to me anytime soon, so I decided to try my luck with the Dark Lord. And was there a better way to get his gratitude than by removing his biggest enemy from the picture? Well, only delivering you to him, I guess, so prepare to… ARGH!

Snape never finished his sentence, for in precisely this moment Harry's fury finally erupted. His Starfire Charm slammed right into the potion master's left leg and ripped it off, together with a large part of his hip. The impact threw him to the ground and caused him to drop his wand, which rolled away to vanish somewhere in the darkness. An agonized scream ripped itself from the Death Eater's mouth, but to Harry it sounded like the sweet tune of revenge. He knew that had not been not an immediately deadly shot, and had picked this way of attack on purpose, wanting to let Snape suffer a bit before he died, which was only a few minutes away now.

"Tell me where Voldemort is!" commanded Harry, pointing his wand at Snape's face, "And I might kill you right here instead of letting you bleed to death!"

"Go to hell, Potter!" spat Snape, his face distorted in pain.

"Oh, I will, save me a seat next to the fire, will you?" answered Harry, before walking slowly away, just remembering the man the Death Eaters had been torturing what felt like a lifetime ago. For a moment he thought he heard a Snape call out for him, but he ignored the feeling, thinking that the traitor deserved a death alone.

A few steps later he was standing over the prone form of the tortured man, who was still lying curled into a ball on the floor, unconsciousness thanks to the rough treatment the Death Eaters had put him through. Harry whipped out his wand and cast a quick Ennervate, knowing that the man would be much more motivated to tell him something about the Fortress than Snape had been.

"Please stop!" whimpered the man, whose face was nearly completely covered with bruises, cuts and wounds, rendering it a featureless mass of red flesh.

"It's okay, I am not here to hurt you", said Harry, just as his gaze settled on the captive's silver-blond hair. "I don't believe this … Malfoy, is that you?"

This statement, combined with the sound of his voice caused the man to snap out of his distress state. In this moment Harry realized that it was indeed Draco Malfoy lying there beaten to a pulp on the floor.

"What on earth are you doing here?" asked Draco, his eyes wide and bewilderment evident in his voice.

"Just passing by." replied Harry, not wanting to explain his plans. "If you help me, then I will let you find your way out of there."

"And if not?"

"Then, you will join your former colleagues."

Draco took a long look over the other Death Eater's prone form and a quick glance at the puddle of blood which had formed about Snape's body, before nodding.

"Alright, what do you want?" he asked.

- - - - -

Harry crept silently up the huge spiral staircase, making sure to remain in the shadows as much as possible, and mulled over the new information had had gotten form Draco. The Slytherin had told him that Voldemort had not been pleased about his inability to kill Dumbledore and while Harry had suspected the very same thing himself, he had been surprised about how brutal Draco's punishment had been. Only the fact that Snape had made an Unbreakable Vow had prevented him from sure death. His demise would have led to Snape's death as well, for he would have failed at protecting him as best as he could, but that had not protected him from the torture Voldemort had let him be put through at all. Snape had protected him as best as he could by keeping the Dark Lord from killing him and therefore the vow had not been broken. Of course, Draco had been less than happy about his former teacher's lack of further support and Harry had the distinct impression that the Slytherin was not too upset about Snape's death as well.

Anyway saving Draco had been one of Harry more clever ideas of the evening, for he had been able to supply him with valuable information. According to his schoolboy nemesis, Voldemort had ordered an attack on Hogwarts to be executed this evening, both to finally break any resistance the still free wizarding population and because of some unnamed master plan he had apparently been hatching for quite a time now. Harry had been chilled to the bone by this new piece of information, fearing that Ginny, Ron and Hermione would fall victim to the attack while he was unable to protect them. His instinct had screamed at him to head back to the school and help at defending it, but he had known that he would never be on time and that this chance of ending the war would be lost if he chose to retreat right now. Draco had claimed that only roughly twenty Death Eaters were left in the Fortress minus the ones he had already removed from the picture. Voldemort apparently wanted to take the school quickly and therefore had decided to pool that much manpower into the task. However, something here at the Fortress seemed to be demanding his utmost attention, for he was not commanding the attack himself. Maybe he was not considering the school that hard an obstacle now that Dumbledore was dead and buried and was confident in his Death Eaters commanders to win the fight without his help.

Harry was pretty sure that Voldemort wanted the school razed to get enough fuel to power the mind controlling spell of the Fortress with enough energy to take over Britain and while this meant that the Death Eaters would have to take as many prisoners as possible, Harry did not like it one bit. Sure, it heightened the chances of survival of the Hogwarts population severely because no halfway sane Death Eater would risk using an Avada Kedavra if he knew that his master's wrath would follow suit, but getting taken prisoner by the Death Eaters was not field trip either. A shudder ran down Harry's spine as he imagined what they would do to Ron, Hermione or Ginny, should they be able to lay their filthy hands on them and the fire of fury raging in his guts rose to new heights. Whatever would happen tonight, Voldemort would not be around to celebrate any victories if Harry had any say in the matter.

Draco had described him the way to the central tower of the Fortress, which housed Voldemort's private quarters as well as the so-called "Feeding Chamber", quite accurately and so Harry was currently climbing the flight of stairs which was supposed to lead to the first level of the tower, housing his nemesis' private rooms. So far he had only encounter three Death Eaters, which had all been alone bored and completely unaware of his presence until they had found themselves face to face with a Cutting Curse aimed at their throat. Harry was fighting his way to Voldemort with unknown brutality, his white-hot rage frozen to cold determination to wipe the scum which had been bringing terror to Britain over the last twenty year's from the earth. He had stopped seeing the Death Eaters as humans; to him they were only enemies, beasts in remotely humanlike forms, only existing to bring sorrow, death and despair to the innocents. No longer he felt bad after killing in battle, like he had when he had slain the Death Eater in the Riddle Mansion, but rather relieved and even slightly happy that one killer less was roaming this world. A small voice in Harry's head was severely worried about this development, but it was completely ignored for his mind was way too preoccupied with fighting to give it much heed.

Five minutes and a pair of slashed Death Eater throat's later, Harry was standing in front of a large double door, crafted out of the blackest ebony he had ever seen. The door was featureless except for the golden doorknobs in form of a twisted face. That had to be the entrance to Voldemort's lair. Harry could not feel the presence of any other person nearby, but he knew that this did not have to mean that no one was near, the door could be enchanted to misguide his senses, masking whoever was waiting in there from detection, after all. Taking a deep breath and readying himself for any bad surprise which could be lurking behind the door, Harry extended his hand and opened it.

He was not even able to set a single foot inside before it happened. All he saw was a brief flash of green before something hard and smooth slammed into him and knocked him to the floor. Suddenly, Harry found himself face to face with a pair of deadly looking fangs, directly aiming at his face. In the last minute Harry could twist his head to the right and was rewarded with the satisfying sound of his attacker crashing against the hard stone of the floor. In this moment, Harry realized what was attacking him: Naigini, Voldemort's massive pet snake and also the last remaining Horcrux. However the danger he was in was by no means reduced by this realization. The snake was still sitting on him, pressing him to the ground with its surprisingly great weight and it was only a matter of time before it recovered from its slightly dazed state to finish him off. Harry had no intention of letting this happen.

However freeing himself was rendered highly difficult by the fact that his wand arm was flattened to the ground by the snake's massive weight. He need to get this bloody reptile of his body and he needed to do so fast. Harry started to twist his wrist of his wand hand, wanting to point it at Naigini instead of pointing useless at the floor with all his might, but the snake's leathery and scaly hide did not shift an inch. Harry knew that his time was rapidly running out and panic started to rise in him, muffling every coherent though. Either the snake would simply kill him right here or would keep him trapped here until Voldemort came. In each way Harry would find himself in the afterlife sooner than later. Just as the still slightly dazed snake lifted her head again, positioning itself for another strike, an idea hit Harry. Instead of trying to wriggle free, he simply employed the Blinking Charm to teleport out of his precarious situation and into safety. He reappeared outside the double door and immediately launched a powerful Cutting Curse at the hideous snake which hit the surprised reptile straight in the face, causing its head to explode in a shower of gore.

Harry was standing panting in the door still trying to recover from the way too close escape he had just had. He shuddered at the thought what would have happened if he had remembered the charm only a few seconds later. He silently cursed himself for letting his fear overwhelm his conscious mind and made mental note to keep calm no matter what was going to happen to him this evening. Of course the currently more rational part of his mind knew that this was a promise he could not keep, but the vast majority of his brain did not give a damn about that at the moment.

Harry looked up again and was more than a bit surprise to find the snake's corpse aflame with white blue fire. He knew that this was could not have been caused by the Cutting Curse, so he assumed that it was connected to the fact that Naigini had been a Horcrux's vessel. Apparently the part of Voldemort's soul which had been resting in her was gone and its absence caused the now dead body to go up in flames. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he realized that Riddle's immortality was now gone forever. He had wondered about how to destroy the Horcrux in the snake for ages now, and was both surprised and relieved about the fact that simply killing it seemed to have done the trick.

Harry took a long look round the room he had been fighting the snake. It was a circular and elegantly furnished room with a large ornate fireplace as the only light source. A round table and a few comfortable looking chairs, crafted out of the same black wood most of the furniture in the Fortress were made of, and a bookshelf were the only pieces of furniture, but all of them looked very expensive and old. The room was lacking the menacing aura which shrouded the rest of them building and for a moment Harry found himself reminded of the Gryffindor common room. However, this impression only lasted for a few heartbeats, because Voldemort chose exactly this moment to burst into the room.

For a moment both men were simply staring each other in shock. Voldemort recovered first.

"Well, who do we have here? Young Harry Potter, what a pleasant surprise!" he said, his monstrous face twisted into a thoroughly evil smile. "And I had feared that I would have to comb the whole country for you!"

"Hello Tom", said Harry, forcing himself to remain calm and reinforcing his Occlumency Shields. "I had a little problem getting in here, sorry for making a mess."

Voldemort's red eyes focused on the prone form of his pet snake and his monstrous face twisted in rage, much to Harry's pleasure. An angry enemy made mistakes, which certainly could come in handy, especially when fighting a foe as formidable as the self-proclaimed Dark Lord.

"You have killed Naigini", gritted his nemesis out through his teeth. "I will revenge her by taking the time to kill you as painfully as possible, Potter. That is, after you have told me about the little prophecy regarding the two of us."

"What makes you believe that I am going to do that?" asked Harry as nonchalantly as he could. Voldemorts thoroughly evil presence chilled his blood like it had all the times before. Apparently there were some things you never got used to.

"It is not that you have a choice Potter and putting on a brave façade is not going to safe you", answered Voldemort, his red eyes narrowed menacingly. "I will simply rip the secrets from your mind and you can't do anything to prevent it! Legilimens!"

Harry, however, was ready.

He allowed Voldemort entrance to the mundane memories and thoughts he had collected and slowly but surely forced him out of his mind, while his enemy was busy sifting through a sea of entirely useless information. It was incredibly hard, much more difficult than denying Snape entrance, but thanks to his enormous willpower, Harry managed to complete his task. He was panting by the time he had completely regained control of his mind, but his exhaustion was nothing compared to the look of utter disbelieve and shock on his archenemies face.

"This is impossible!" Voldemort managed to gasp out after a few heartbeats. "No one has been able to force me out of his mind before!"

"Well, Tom, I have learned a few things over the past months", answered Harry through wheezing breaths. "I have grown powerful and I am here to destroy you, just like I destroyed the precious immortality you have been creating for such a long time. We both know how this night is going to end: with pain and suffering. So why don't we finally get started?"

"You certainly have changed a lot Potter", replied Voldemort his voice quiet and deadly. "How many of my men have you slain to get to me?"

"A few, but I can't see how this is important at this moment."

"Oh it, certainly is", continued the Dark Lord, his face twisted into an ugly sneer. "You have tasted the ultimate power tonight, the power over life and death, and I can see in your eyes that you like to be in charge of a situation. You are becoming more like me any day and it won't be long until you realize that love is nothing compared to what power can offer."

"I will never be like you!" spat Harry, disgusted at the mere thought of ever being even remotely similar to the dark wizard he had been fighting for so long. "I am here to kill you and I will, so get ready or I am going to slay you were you stand!"

"Promises, promises Potter", answered Voldemort, the grin gone from his face to reveal an ever more dangerous look. "You will be serving me before the night is over. The Fortress is not nearly fully charged, but this is about to change after I have fed the population of Hogwarts to it, isn't? Currently there is enough energy to break a single person's will and you are going to have the honour of being this beautiful building's first victim."

"No bloody way!" shouted Harry was just about to send a Starfire Charm at his enemy, as Voldemort spoke a single word of power. The worst pain Harry had ever felt rose in his head and he fell to the ground clutching his temples. As his vision slowly faded to black he heard Voldemort telling him that he would wait for him on the top of the tower. Then, he lost consciousness.

- - - - -

Harry gingerly stood up from the ground. His whole body was sour and he had a raging headache, but otherwise he felt completely normal. He was still in the circular chamber where he had encountered Voldemort, but he could sense that at least an hour had passed. What on earth had happened? He could remember Voldemort walking away, claiming to wait for him on the tower's top, but… oh, Voldemort had used the Fortress' power against him, wanting to turn him into a mindless puppet! But that had not worked, had it?

After all he felt perfectly normal and could feel no alien presence in his head, apart from this bloody headache, of course. Was it possible that he was under Voldemort's control without even knowing it? Could it be that he would only have to follow his enemy's orders and was completely himself otherwise? That would be even worse than death, for he would be a prisoner in his very own body.

Harry furrowed his brows in concentration as he tried to remember anything about the past hour. For a moment nothing happened, but then images started to bubble up his mind. It was a confusing mixture of real memories, false memories, and visions, some perfectly clear, others so blurry and fogged that he could only image what they were. He could see Sirius falling through the veil, but he could also see himself entering it and bringing him back. He could see himself standing on a graveyard, waving his wand at two graves lying to his feet. Two figures were rising from the earth, mere skeletons at first, but at a flick of his hand, flesh started to grow on them until they had regained their natural form. Harry found himself face to face with his parent's resurrected forms.

The image faded as quickly as it had formed and Harry saw another familiar scene. Once again he was standing in a field of corpses, the field of his defeated foes. He could see another group of Death Eaters storming towards him, launching volley after volley of Killing Curses, but even though they hit him, Harry was completely unharmed by any of the green beams. He only raised his left hand and watched his enemies getting incinerated by a giant beam of fire which struck them from the sky.

Harry shook his head to clear it and found himself back in the chamber in which had woken up. He knew that he had only seen a small part of what had been in his head in the passed hour, but he got the general idea behind it. Apparently the Fortress was controlling its victims by promising them unimaginable power if they followed its master obediently and lured them into surrendering to its powers by showing them what they would have been able to do with it. Necraal had obviously assumed that each human was hungering for power and had therefore designed the Fortress this way. Still this did not explain why Harry was still as he had been before.

Harry did not know how effective the Fortress was, but he was pretty sure that it was indeed working. After all, people had been joining Voldemort for nothing more than the promise of a small part of his power. Harry knew that his nemesis could be pretty convincing, but he doubted that he could be as efficient as a building designed with the very purpose to control and dominate people. So that still left him with the question while he still was himself. Suddenly another image rose in his mind.

Harry found himself standing in the Hogwarts' hospital wing, standing directly in front of the bed still holding Ginny's prone form. He raised one of his hands and her eyes fluttered open, the chains which had been holding her unconscious shattered with a single blow. She rose in a sitting position and locked her eyes with his, a small smile appearing on her face.

"Harry", she said, her voice like an angel's. "This is not real; the Fortress is trying to trick you. See behind the lies and destroy the evil that is Voldemort for me, for us. Save us all and come back in one piece. I will be waiting for you."

As Harry's vision cleared, everything suddenly made sense. The Fortress had shown him the scene there he had awakened Ginny, because of his great desire to see her again. But something or someone had changed the scene, causing Ginny to warn him from the danger he was in and thereby saving him from losing himself. Harry did not know what it had been, but he honestly did not care at the moment. All that counted was that he was himself and had a dark wizard to kill. Taking a deep breath, he crossed the room and started climbing up the stairs.

- - - - -

Five minutes later, Harry was standing on the flat platform topping the central tower of the Fortress. The wind was whipping around him, howling and causing the already freezing temperature to drop even lower. The platform was square – one side roughly twenty feet long – and bare except for four monoliths standing at the towers edges, giving it the look of a monstrous hand reaching into the nightly sky. Voldemort was nowhere to be seen.

Harry furrowed his brows in concentration and took another step out of the trap door leading up onto the platform, using all of his sense to discover his worst enemy's whereabouts. His awareness saved his life. Just as he finished the step, he realized that Voldemort was standing directly behind him, having Disillusioned himself to meld with the nightly sky. Harry threw himself to the ground just as Voldemort shouted "Crucio" and the Unforgivable barely missed his head. Before Voldemort could fire another curse, Harry had already whirled around and fired a Cutting Curse at the other wizard, forcing him to erect a shield to avoid getting hit. Then, Harry teleported himself to the other end of the platform, opting for a greater distance to his enemy. Disillusioning himself to annihilated Voldemort's advantage, Harry called out to his nemesis.

"How did you know that I was not controlled by the Fortress?" shouted Harry, while firing a volley of Starfire Charms in the general direction where he could feel Voldemort's aura. The explosions caused by the charms rocked the tower, but Harry was sure that he had seen Voldemort erecting a shield, just before his first charm had hit, which probably meant that he was not dead, for Harry had not taken the necessary time to create a truly powerful spell. Of course it also meant that it was nearly impossible to see his opponent in the smoke his last curse of action had created, especially because he was Disillusioned. Once again it was his ability to feel other person's minds that saved Harry. He suddenly realized that Voldemort was much closer than he had thought, only eight feet away, and immediately teleported away back to the trapdoor. Two rapid heartbeats later, he saw Voldemort firing a Killing Curse at the very same spot where he had been standing mere moments ago; apparently his nemesis had not yet realized that Harry had teleported away, thanks to the Disillusionment Charm on him.

"You can't hide forever Potter!" shouted Voldemort, as he realized that Harry had once again slipped through his fingers. "Sooner or later to fancy teleporting trick will run out and then you will be mine! I suspected that you would be too headstrong to be controlled by the Fortress and therefore designed this little trap and luck will not be enough to escape my wrath!"

Harry ignored Voldemort's mindless taunts, knowing that he was walking a very thin line. One mistake and he was as dead as one could be, well at least he would be after Voldemort would have grown tired of torturing him. He needed an idea to overpower his enemy or this fight would be going on for hours. Suddenly it hit him.

Voldemort was standing directly next to one of the pillars, at least Harry thought so - it was not easy to tell with the bloody charms on both of them. Grinning, Harry launched a Reductor Curse at the monolith, and was pleased to find it getting blasted into a thousand splinters and to hear Voldemort's scream of pain as some of them buried themselves in the surprised wizard's flesh. Voldemort's answer was a swift Avada Kedavra aimed at the place where he had seen the spell erupt, but Harry had already teleported himself away to the other end of the platform which was more than a bit demolished by his Starfire Charms.

"I have enough of playing hide and seek Potter!" shouted Voldemort and muttered an incantation under his breath which rendered both him and Harry visible again. "No more Disillusionment Charms in this fight!"

"Fine with me!" shouted Harry back a launched a series of weak, but fast Slashing Hexes at Voldemort, while at the same time collecting his power for a more powerful spell. He felt exposed with the Disillusionment Charm gone and the fear mingled with the anger in his system to create an emotional cocktail which caused him to tremble with excitement.

While Voldemort was busy blocking his Slashing Hexes, Harry teleported as close to him as he dared and fired a Starfire Charm with as much energy as he had been able to channel in the short time. Voldemort was hit straight in the chest, with his shield still in place and vanished in a white hot explosion, which would have engulfed Harry as well, had he not Blinked away directly after launching the curse. He hit the ground close to platforms other demolished edge, panting hard both at the strain of Blinking so often in the last minutes and at having channelled such a powerful curse. Looking at the cloud of dust and dirt billowing where Voldemort and a large part of the platform had been, Harry realized that it was finally over. Allowing himself to finally relax, Harry sank down on the floor, burying his face in his hands. For a few precious moments he was enjoying the peace which had settled about this menacing building, but then something changed.

"Oh god, no!" said Harry as he felt the familiar presence of his nemesis' aura. Before he had any chance to react, a Bludgeoning Curse had hit him straight in the chest and carried him over the edge of the tower.

"Blast it!" shouted Harry, as he started his enormously deep descent. He cursed himself for underestimating Voldemort and for being so careless. Well, no harm done. Having already fallen fifteen feet, Harry started teleporting himself upwards, annihilating the fall and managing to get back to the platform, completely exhausted and drenched in sweat at the strain this rapid teleporting had put on his body and with a few broken rips thanks to Voldemort's last curse.

Once again, he found himself face to face with Voldmort. His enemy looked horrible; most of his skin was burned sometimes as deep as to the bone. Chunks of stone had imbedded themselves in his limbs, opening deep and extremely painful looking wounds. Harry was astonished that his nemesis was still alive and able to walk, but apparently Voldemort was tougher than he had given him credit for.

"You are so dead, Potter", hissed Voldemort before jumping into action. He fired two Cutting Curses at Harry one at his face and one at his torso. Harry was able to dodge the first one, so that instead of slicing open his face it only left a small gash on his left cheek. The other one however, embedded itself directly over Harry's right hip, opening a two inch slash in his flesh. Excruciating pain flooded his consciousness, eradicating all thoughts of resistance. Harry fell to the ground, his wand dropping to the stone next to him, rolling out of reach. He could see Voldemort's sneering face over him and knew that he would have to use his last trick if he wanted to slay his enemy, the spell describe on the very last page of _Fifty Wicked Combat Spells_. Smiling a weak smile, Harry uttered a single word of power under his breath.

A gigantic wave of energy erupted from Harry's body, spreading rapidly. Within a second it touched Voldemort, burning away his flesh, leaving only a charred skeleton behind. Quickly the energy had formed a sphere around the entire platform, which sizzled menacing with pent up power. Harry breathed out a sigh of relief as he realized that it was finally and really over this time.

This spell was called Sunburst Technique and it was a suicide move. Energy erupted from the caster, destroying any other living thing it touched and creating a big sphere around him. Unfortunately this sphere had the slight drawback of collapsing after a minute, causing a gigantic explosion, which killed the caster and destroyed everything within a three hundred feet radius. Being too weak to blink away and unable to Apparate due to the Fortress' wards, Harry waited for the sphere to collapse, his face twisting into a relieved smile at the knowledge that the nightmare was finally over.


	16. Afterthoughts Again

Ron's gaze flickered through the barely lit hall, flooding his brain with surreal images. He was standing in a hall crafted mainly out of white marble, which was currently hosting at least five hundred people huddling tightly together. The room was completely bare except for the black coffin, which was lying on top a small platform at the other end of the hall. A soft glow emanating from the plain white walls illuminated the room, dousing it in soft, soothing light. Ron could see Rufus Scrimgeour, who had been until then talking quietly to his git of a brother Percy next to the single door of the room, starting to walk towards the front of the room and knew that the ceremony was about to start. All these people had come to witness the burial of his best mate.

Ron shook his head, still unable to believe that Harry was indeed gone. To him the whole scene appeared like a dream, surreal and unsubstantial, and he expected to wake up and to find himself in his bed in the Gryffindor dorm at every moment. It had only been a single week. A single week had passed since his best mate had vanished, seven mere days since the last curse of the Hogwarts skirmish had been fired and already the Ministry was burying the world's saviour. Anger flared in Ron at the Ministry's extraordinary haste, but he knew that there was not anything a longer search would have changed. Nothing was known about the final battle between Harry and You-Know-Who, only that his demise had saved the life of all of Hogwarts' population. The Death Eaters seemed to have felt their master's life ending and had fled the battlefield head over feet, abandoning their almost successful attack immediately.

As the Aurors had searched the Fortress of Woe some hours later, which had somehow been rendered visible by something which had transpired during that fateful evening, the only thing they had found was an empty and thoroughly demolished building. Being unable to find either Harry's or You-Know-Who's body, the Ministry had declared both of them dead after a week of searching. The Death Eaters had scattered into all winds and the second war had finally been over. Still the victory was tainted by the causalities of the attack on Hogwarts and of course by Harry's disappearance.

Ron sighed as the memories of this wretched night started to come back. Instead of giving in to them, however, he forced himself to pay extra attention to his surroundings, hoping that it would help him to block the unwanted memories. He tightened his grip on Hermione's hand and her reassuring squeeze eased his tension a bit. Even though Hermione and he had not exchanged a single word since they had entered the hall together almost an hour ago, Ron knew that it was her presence which kept him from falling apart completely and he hoped that he had the same effect on her. In this madness, Hermione was an island of normalcy, logic and calm and Ron was more than a little grateful for it. The emotional Wronsiki Feint Ron and his family were currently put through was mind rocking and even though she was affected as well, Hermione seemed to be coping quite well with the situation. Well, at least better than the rest of them.

A muffled sob, reached Ron's ears and he knew without doubt who had uttered it: Ginny, who was standing two rows behind him and was probably just getting comforted by his mum. She had chosen the most inappropriate time to wake up: directly in the middle of the battle for Hogwarts and the news of Harry's disappearance and most likely death had been extremely hard on her. Ron had no idea how it must feel to wake up only to find out that the person you had been fighting for to see again was gone and most likely currently rotting in the ruins of the Fortress of Woe. Ron could not remember seeing her smile in the week since Harry's departure and while he and the rest of his family had been delighted about her recovery, Ginny's obvious sadness was wearing them all down. His baby sister had spent most of the week in her bedroom and Ron suspected that she had been crying most of the time, judging at how red her eyes were looking all the time. He had also watched her playing with the silver ring Harry used to wear and which he had probably given her as he had dropped off the goodbye letters and even a person with the emotional range of a teaspoon – as Hermione had put it a few years ago – Ron knew what that meant: that she missed him terribly. Ron was not sure anymore how much his family knew about his best mate's and his sister's relationship; sure it had been mentioned in an issue of Witch Weekly, but his mum had stopped reading that since his fourth year and he was the only one left at Hogwarts except for Ginny, who had once told him in very clearly that she wanted him to bugger off.

So he was caught between two women you should not mess with: his mother, who was asking him more and more questions why Ginny was so much more distraught about Harry's absence and his sisters who would without doubt curse him with her infamous Bat Bogey Hex should he say a single word about her and Harry's relationship. Of course it was unfair of Mrs. Weasley to compare Ron's and Ginny's grief, for while Ron was not hiding in his room most of the time, did not mean that he was not suffering under his best mate's disappearance. Quite the opposite was true, in fact, but at the moment Ron was still too much under shock to believe that Harry was really gone forever. His best friend, who had survived all of his terrible encounters with You-Know-Who dead? Impossible! Harry was a fighter, he was surely going to come back, he had done things much more unlikely in the past, hadn't he? He was surely just licking his wounds and when they arrived back in the Burrow after the ceremony was over, he would stand there in the kitchen, smiling the exhausted smile he always wore when another adventure was finally over and everything would be fine, wouldn't it?

Oh who was he kidding? He was standing here on the funeral of his best friend and was still in denial over his death! Ron had seen pictures of the Fortress of Woe in the Daily Prophet and no one, not even Harry would have survived whatever had destroyed most of it. But still, a small part of him was still hoping beyond hope that Harry had made it and that this whole funeral would turn out to be the joke of the century in a few days. But until this happened, the ceremony which was apparently going to start in a few minutes, gave Harry's supposed death a certainty and finality it had been lacking before. It marked the end of an era and the beginning of a new one, which in Ron's opinion was going to suck royally. He had had so many fantasies about his life after the war and almost all of them had included Harry in some way. How was he going to marry Hermione without Harry as his best man to keep him halfway sane? Who was going to take care of his sister other than his trusted friend – a git like Michael Corner? Sighing, Ron realized that he was really going to start crying if he stayed on this train of thought. More to distract himself than out of interest he started to scan the hall around him looking for any familiar faces.

There was his family of course, who was standing in a neat line two rows behind him and Hermione. He could see, Ginny crying quietly, while his mum tried to calm her, he could see Bill and Charley who were discussing something with a grim expression on their faces, his father, who was looking older than Ron had ever seen before, and the twins, who looked so alien with completely sober faces, that he nearly had not recognized them. Ron also spotted Tonks, standing alone next to the door, her hair back to mousy brown and her mouth a hard line. Ron now remembered that Remus had not been allowed to enter the hall, due to being a werewolf, which of course had caused Tonks to nearly curse the arrogant guard. However in the end Remus had agreed to wait outside, which was probably why the otherwise so cheerful Auror looked as though she was going to slaughter the next unfortunate being who dared to speak to her. While entering, he had seen McGonagall entering the hall as well, and he wondered if all of Hogwarts' staff were present. Well, at least all of them who were left. Almost instantly, Ron's thoughts rushed back to the night of the attack – he remembered.

- - - - -

It had all started like perfectly normal evening. Hermione and him had been heading down to dinner, but had opted to visit the Hospital Wing on the way, both because they wanted to visit Ginny and because Harry was most likely in there standing guard over her prone body. Ron could remember that they had been discussing about whether pushing Harry to spend more time away from Ginny or not, and that an argument had been brewing between them as they had finally arrived at the Hospital Wing. Instead of finding their best friend sitting next to Ginny's bed, they only encountered the still unconscious Ginny. However, the three letters lying on her prone legs caught their attention immediately.

"What do you think this is about?" asked Hermione as she picked up one of the sealed enveloped and scanned the title. "Ron it's addressed to me!"

"Go on, open it", he answered, bewildered at this fact. Who would leave a letter to Hermione on Ginny's bed, rather than giving it to her in person? It better not be some secret admirer, because Ron would…

"Oh my god!" exclaimed Hermione, clapping her right hand to her mouth. "Ron, you are not going to believe this: it's a letter from Harry! He has left to hunt down Voldemort and says goodbye to me just in case he does not make it!"

"What!" shouted Ron. "Why on earth is he leaving now and without us? I thought we were supposed to help him defeating that bastard!"

"Quick, if we are fast enough we may still caught him while leaving the castle; it can't be long since he left the letters here!

Ron agreed and they dashed down the numerous spiral staircases leading to the castle's entrance as quickly as they could. However, instead of finding Harry sneaking out, they encountered a crowd of people flocking around the main gate, which a ghostly pale Hagrid had just been busy barring. Before they had the chance to inquire what was going on, Headmistress McGonagall's sharp voice sliced through the buzz of conversation which filled the entrance hall like a warm knife through butter.

"Hagrid, would you be so kind to explain why on earth you are barring the door?" she asked her fellow teacher who was just busy adding a few armour suits to the barricade he had erected.

"They are coming, headmistress!" answered Hagrid, turning around and abandoning his work for a moment. His eyes were wide and had a slightly deranged look in them, but his voice was clear as he evaluated his statement. "The Death Eaters are attacking Hogwarts!"

For a few heartbeats absolute silence filled the hall, a few moments of calm before the storm broke loose. The headmistress was the first to regain her composure.

"Alright then, all students return to their common rooms immediately. The staff will try to prevent the enemy from entering the castle as long as possible. We are going to need help, Filius be so kind and contact the Ministry and any other friends and be swift this is going to be nasty. Honestly attacking a school – the world has become a bad place to live in indeed."

"Professor, we want to help, we are going to fight with you!" said Ron, anger coursing through his veins at the thought of getting dismissed like an incapable child. "You are going to need every help you could get!"

"No, you certainly won't do such a thing Mr. Weasley", replied the headmistress in her sternest voice. "While I am very sure that you can hold your own in combat, you still are a pupil and it's my job to protect you. I can't fight while having to worry about any of my pupils getting killed and heard, so you are going to stay out of danger as long as possible. Where is Mr. Potter by the way?"

"He left the castle earlier tonight", answered Ron through clenched teeth. "He is going to end things with You-Know-Who tonight."

"Good, though we could need him here as well", replied the headmistress, just a mighty blow caused the front door to shake alarmingly. "I think that is the signal for you to return to the safety of the common rooms. Off you go, and don't worry; we only have to endure long enough till the Ministry sends reinforcements, everything will be fine."

"Like hell, it will be fine", muttered Ron under his breath, unwilling to avoid the fight. However, he complied as Hermione dragged him away from the entrance hall back up the stairs leading to Gryffindor Tower.

As they entered the tower together with their fellow housemates, Ron immediately sank down in a chair next to the fire, his face scrunched up in anger.

"I just can't understand why McGonagall does not want us to fight!" he exploded as Hermione sat down in a chair opposite of him. "I don't believe this rubbish she said about her duty to protect her students, I mean where was her desire to protect us during all the shit Harry had been put through during the last years? I don't remember her raising any objections as Harry had to attend the Triwizarding Tournament with fourteen! So why is she acting all protective now?"

"Ron this situation is completely different", answered Hermione patiently. "You have to admit that most students would only be standing in the way if they became involved in the fighting and while some of us are quite capable at fighting that does not mean that everyone should be placed in the line of fire. Besides, her strategy is pretty good. If the Death Eaters managed to enter the castle they still are going to have to force their way into the common rooms one at a time, which makes it very easy to defend them. This way most of the pupils are going to be unharmed as the Ministry arrives."

Ron had to admit, though grudgingly, that Hermione was right once again. He did not like McGonagall's decision, but it made sense.

"Alright then, I will stay put, but I want to make it absolutely clear that I was against this plan from the very beginning", he said, leaning back in his armchair in a vain attempt to become comfortable.

Is there a saying that the worst part of a battle is waiting for it? If there is not there should be one. Ron did not know for how long they had been waiting in the common room, huddled together like a group of animals in a storm, listening to the sounds of battle which constantly grew louder. The tension in the room made him even more apprehensive than before and by the time a tremendous crash announced the destruction of the main gate he was itching to join battle.

"That was the main gate," whispered Seamus Finnigan. "It can't be long now till they will barge in here."

"Yeah, and we will be ready to meet them", replied Hermione as calmly as she could, which was extraordinary clam considering the situation. "The Ministry is going to arrive soon and then all of us will be saved. We only have to remain clam and everything will be alright."

The fact that Death Eaters had infiltrated the school stirred something in Ron's brain. Suddenly he remembered that there was one Gryffindor except Harry who was not in the safety of the common room.

"Hermione, Ginny is still lying in the hospital wing, we have got to go and fetch her!"

"You are right, how could we forget about her?" replied Hermione, paling visibly. "We have to go and fetch her right now!"

"Right," agreed Ron, grabbing his wand. "Let's get moving. If we are lucky we will have her safe here in the Common Room with us before the Death Eaters managed to infiltrate the castle."

"You can't go out there right now!" interrupted Dean. "The castle is possibly already swarming with Death Eaters and you two are only getting yourself killed or captured if you are going out there yourself!"

"So your suggestion is to leave Ginny lying there on the silver plate?" barked Ron at his housemate, whom he liked a great deal less since he had gone out with his precious sister. "Sorry, I won't let this happen. The Death Eaters are not going to know what hit them, Hermione and I are a force one should recon with."

"Dean's not wrong", added Neville. "You two are not nearly enough to make sure that Ginny is saved. Take me and the rest of the former DA members with you and we should make strong enough a troop to get her back to safety."

While most of the present former members seemed to agree with Neville, Hermione had completely different an opinion.

"No, Ron and I are going alone," she said firmly. "We need the rest of you to defend the tower which is more important than Ron's, Ginny's and my fate combined. Also I would like to get Ginny as stealthily as possible, which is kind of hard with a group of more than twenty. Don't worry, we don't plan to get involved with the Death Eaters, should we encounter them we simply are going to use some spells to confuse them and retreat to the common room as quickly as possible."

The plan did not sound as easy in Ron's ears, but he agreed with Hermione. There was no point in running through the corridors in a horde except that their combined footsteps would alert the Death Eaters almost instantly. Their fellow Gryffindors protested, but after another of Hermione's patented glares of death all of the agreed to let them go. The two of the quickly but quietly left the room and started the journey towards their hospital wing.

Ron did not remember much of the way to the wing, which probably was due to the fact that all of his brain had been focused on taking in his surroundings and looking for foes rather than on memorizing them. All he could come up with there the sounds of the distant battle, screams, bellowed incantations, the crackling of flames, splintering wood, the dull sound of a body hitting the ground, which were muffled by the castle's thick walls but still quite audible and grew louder with each step towards their goal, because the entrance hall also lay in this direction. He had been that focused on spotting any possible nearby enemies that for a few moments he had even forgotten about his fear for his sister, for Hermione, for Harry, for himself and when the entrance to the hospital wing came into view, he could not believe their luck. He knew that Madame Pomfrey was gone, fighting with the rest of the staff, so the only person in the wing was his sisters. Only a few minutes more and they would be safely on their way back to Gryffindor tower. Just as he only ten feet away from the door leading to the matron's realm, a movement in the corner of his eyes caught his attention. To his horror Ron watched a group of two Death Eaters coming around the corner of the corridor roughly thirty feet away.

For a moment time stopped. Both parties simply stared at each other in utmost surprise, the fact that they should be fighting each other forgotten for a few heartbeats. Fortunately Ron recovered first. Knowing that he and Hermione would not be able to reach the entrance to the hospital wing before their enemies would open fire, he decided that they had to overthrow them before saving Ginny. Ron remembered a lesson Harry had once taught them during a PFT lesson: when a fight was unpreventable, strike first, strike hard, strike true. Snarling he raised his wand and sent a Cutting Charm straight at the left death eater's throat. His move caused all other present people to jerk out of their paralysis. Hermione followed his example by sending a powerful stunner at the very same Death Eater he had attacked, but their foe blocked both of their spells with a simple shield charm. His colleague, who not needed to defend himself against any enemy spells, reacted in standard Death Eater fashion: he whipped out his wand and cast an Avada Kedavra at the nearest enemy, which happened to be Hermione.

For a brief moment Hermione seemed to be rooted to the spot in terror, but then she snapped out of her daze and nimbly sidestepped the deadly curse a few seconds before it would have hit her in the chest. Ron breathed a sigh of relieve at her escape, but the ugly truth that the corridor they had chosen as impromptu fighting ground was not nearly wide enough to dodge two Avada Kedavras, did not escape him. As long as only one of their foes fired the lethal curse they were fine, but as soon as both of them resorted to the use of their ultimate weapon they were dead. It was of course safe to say that Ron did not like the odds the least bit. As much as he hated to leave Ginny in danger, he would have to retreat and lure the Death Eaters in a more favourable environment. Thank god they did not know that his sister was lying helpless only separated to the combat by a set of wooden doors.

"Hermione!" he hissed not loud enough for his foes to hear, but loud enough for her to understand him. "We have got to retreat; we can't dodge more than one Avada Kedavra here. Let's lure them up the next stairs and ambush them there, we will finish what we came for later!"

Hermione nodded her agreement and the two started to retreat while firing stunners and cutting curses at the Death Eaters, hoping to keep them too busy defending themselves to use their Unforgivables. Their progress was slow, excruciating slow and after roughly thirty feet of progress, Ron realized that they were not going to make it. Already his wand arm was tiring and his whole body was aching and protesting against how quickly he depleted his magical energies. It only took one glance at Hermione to know that she suffered the same and while their foes were also starting to show signs of the strain of almost constantly active shield charms, they were tiring much slower than they were. They were still keeping their distances and were now standing roughly twenty feet away, with the door leading to the hospital wing another ten feet behind them and with Ron and Hermione standing close to the end of the corridor. Ron knew they could try to run for it after disappearing behind the corner, but he was fairly sure that he did not have the endurance to outrun his enemies. Still, it was worth a shot. However in this dangerous situation a completely unexpected helper arrived.

Ron caught the movement at the very edge of his vision, but as he realized what it was he had to restrain himself from calling out. The door leading to the Hospital Wing had opened and a single figure had slipped out as silent as a ghost. She was only wearing a hospital gown, her face looked tired, she was thinner than he remembered and her fiery hair was a mess, but her chocolate eyes shone clearly and determined. Just as the Death Eaters had deflected the next of Ron's and Hermione's curses and their shields had vanished, Ginny cast a silent stunner at the foe standing closest to her and caught him straight in the back. As he hit the ground his colleague turned around to see where the stunner had come from, but in the process exposed himself to Ron and Hermione who did not let this chance pass unnoticed and sent him into unconsciousness with two stunners in his back.

Ron was amazed and overjoyed to see his little sister finally awake after her long coma, but this was not the time to celebrate it, especially because he could the voices of more Death Eaters coming up the stairs leading to this very corridor.

"Run!" shouted Ron and the three turned on their heels and stormed back the way towards Gryffindor tower. A few curses were hurled their way as they ran for it, but fortunately none of them was hit. Even though Ron had not considered it possible they were actually able to outrun their foes, despite their less than optimal physical situation and arrived at the portrait of the pink lady completely exhausted but otherwise unhurt. Entering the common room, they braced themselves for the nerve grating hours of waiting.

- - - - -

The sound of the Minister clearing his throat caused Ron to slip out of his memories. It had not been long till the battle for Hogwarts had been over, after they had fetched Ginny. Approximately half an hour later the Aurors had finally arrived and while the battle had been long and bloody they had been successful, though their victory was based on the face that the Death Eaters had depart in fright as they had felt their master's demise, leaving only the Dementors and Werewolves behind, which had been no match for the Aurors. Still the blood toll had been high, only half of the hundred Aurors who had entered the field left the battlefield still alive. The Hogwarts' staff was also less numerous than it had been, their heroic defence had not left them unscathed. Professor Sprout, Slughorn, Trelaneway and worst of all Hagrid had paid their involvement with their life. Ron sighed at the thought of another funeral to attend, but knew that he owed it to each of them, particularly to Hagrid. The only bright side was that Harry had died without the knowledge that the gamekeeper was dead, for it would have pained him severely. A small part of Ron considered it highly ironic that he had been able to find a bright spot in his best mate's premature death, but the beginning of Scrimgeour's speech spared him of any more ponderings about the subject.

"Welcome Ladies and Gentlemen," said the Minister, starting what clearly was supposed to be a very long speech. "Despite the gruesome and sorrowful reason for this ceremony, I am overjoyed by your numerous presence and I am sure if our saviour, young Mr. Potter would be able to be here, he would…"

"…be amazed at how quickly the Ministry declares people dead who have risked everything to safe this sorry country."

Ron could not believe his ears. He recognized the voice, having heard it countless times: it was Harry's voice! Enormous, all consuming hope and joy washed over Ron, but it was short lived as he realized that he could not actually see his best mate, who was suppose to be somewhere in the room, having just commented on the Minister's statement. For a few heartbeats the whole hall searched in vain for the source of the offensive comment, but then Harry Potter appeared in a flurry of silver fabric as he pulled his invisibility cloak of him. He looked horrible. His full body dragon armour had been pierced in several places, exposing the bandaged skin beneath. He obviously had received some medical attention, but still looked dead on his feet with dark rings under his haunted looking eyes and a sunken, pale and tired face. A gasp went through the crowd, but Harry ignored it, fixing his piercing stare on the Minister, who had turned around in confusion at the rude interruption of his carefully prepared speech, and continued speaking.

"I came here today to show the world that I am still alive, even though many people had been stating the contrary in the past few days and to tell everybody that Voldemort is now, finally and forever, dead. I apologize for the scare I gave everyone who cares about me in the last few days, but the battle with Voldemort has taken a much greater toll than I expected and I needed the past week to at least halfway recover from it. Finally all of my dues are paid and it is time to start finally living my own life. And now, I am going home!"

With these words Harry Disapparated, leaving a completely stunned hall behind.

- - - - -

Harry reappeared in the Burrow's familiar kitchen, immediately grabbing the sink for support. He felt dizzy and the pain right above his right hip started to flare once again. Harry cursed; the painkiller potion must have stopped working. He produced a small vial filled with emerald green liquid out of his tattered vest's pocket, uncorked it and swallowed the content in one go. It could not be long now till the Weasleys arrived and for a moment Harry had been sure that he had seen Ginny standing in the crowd with them, but he did not allow himself to belief this till he saw her in person. While he was waiting for both his makeshift family to arrive and for the potion to kick in, Harry thought about how extraordinary the last few days had been.

- - - - -

He had woken up this very morning in an unfamiliar flat and found a man in his thirties with a pleasant but premature lined face gazing tiredly at him.

"Ah good, you are awake," he had said, raising his hands to show Harry that he was no threat. "My name is healer Fitzgerald, normally I work at St. Mungo's but a mutual friend convinced me to call in sick and to use the last six days to stitch you back together. He can be very persuading if he wants to be."

Just as Harry wanted to ask whom he was taking about, he saw a jet black figure standing on the flat's balcony, idly scanning the horizon. He recognized it: Sandro the shade assassin. Before Harry had the chance to comment on this, the healer had already whipped out his wand and had cast a diagnosis spell on him. While Harry still did not like the situation very much, he decided to let the man do his job.

"Alright then", said the healer, after having finished his examination. "Most of your wounds are almost perfectly healed by now, and your right kidney has grown again nicely. You will still be in pain for a day or two and feel weak, but otherwise you are in perfect health. I strongly recommend rest and as few use of magic as possible because your magical reserves still stored in your body are dangerously low. Oh, that reminds me…"

He opened a bag which had been lying at his feet and rummaged through it till he came up with two vials filled with green liquid and two filled with blue and gave them to Harry.

"The green ones are painkillers and the blue ones will help you regenerate more quickly", he explained. "Take a painkiller if the pain returns and a blue one each day before going to bed. These are standard potions available in every apothecary so if you need more, simply send someone to get them. Oh, and there is something that might interest you in today's _Morning Prophet_."

He fished around in his bag till he came up with the newspaper and gave it to Harry, who gasped in shock as he read the headline. He quickly scanned the article and discovered that he was about to get buried and declared dead today, because nobody had been able to find his body during the last week. Anger flared in Harry at how quickly the Wizarding World had abandoned him and at Sandro, for he apparently had not bothered to tell anyone that Harry was still alive. Just as he was about to jump up from his bed, grab his wand, which he had spotted lying on the floor next to it, and confront the assassin with this fact, the door leading towards the balcony opened and the person in question entered the room.

"Ah Harry, you are awake, how delightful!" said the assassin with the eeriest grin Harry had ever seen. "Then my job here is finally gone and I can start the holiday I surely have deserved after fifty years of non-stop working."

"Not so fast", Harry heard himself snarl, and his wand was in his hand with a split second. "You still have to explain to me where I am, what has happened and why I am still alive."

"Ah, of course, how thoughtless of me", replied the assassin, completely unfazed by Harry's wand. "Well, as you surely recall Snape cheated me way back in December and I do not take things like that kindly. I wanted revenge. Well, Snape is or rather was only a pawn, so my true target was going to be Lord Voldemort himself and after some research and a few more dead Death Eaters I found myself slipping into the Fortress of Woe on the very same day you entered it, full of wonderful dreams of my vengeance. Well, I was severely disappointed, for the whole part of the Fortress I explored was devoid of anything to kill."

"Therefore , I left again, but spotted your impressive lightshow before I finally departed. It did not escape me that you were I trouble and I decided that there would be no greater way to take revenge at Voldemort than by making sure that his nemesis survived. So, I quickly entered the tower, grabbed you and got you out just in time, brought you to the healer and made sure no one damaged you while you were healing. And well, here we are."

Something stirred in Harry's brain at Sandro's tale and suddenly he remembered being dragged down the stairs of Voldemort's tower at frightening speed. The memory was fuzzy, except for the very clear memory of the pain, but Harry knew that the assassin was telling the truth.

"Still, why I did it took a week to stitch me back together and why did you not tell anyone of my survival?" asked Harry, not yet completely satisfied with the shade's explanations.

"Well, I am not really proficient with healing spells, but I think it is due to the fact that you lost a kidney which had to be replaced." answered the assassin. "It takes time to grow these things and I did not contact anyone because I did not know whom I should contact and whom I could trust. So, if you are finished whining, could you please get your arse out of here? I think you have a funeral to attend."

Harry did not need to be told twice. Waving weakly in thanks at the healer, he took the invisibility cloak out of his pocket, threw it over him and Disapparated to his own funeral.

- - - - -

Harry smiled at the thought of having visited his own funeral and still living to tell the tale – fate really had a strange humour. The sound of Apparating caused him to jerk out of his musings and his hand immediately went to his wand. It took Harry a second to realize that the Burrow was still protected by an abundance of wards and that no Death Eater would have been able to simply pop in here. Shaking his head at himself, Harry pocketed his wand again, but vowed to stay alert, well as alert as the now slowly fading pain above his right hip allowed him to be. Just in this moment the door leading to the kitchen banged open and Harry looked into Ron's thoroughly shocked face.

"Hey Ron", was all he managed to say, before his best mate was roughly shoved aside and something that looked like a red whirlwind hurled itself at Harry, nearly knocking him flat. Suddenly he realized what or rather who it was.

"Ginny?" he heard himself say incredibly, just as she started sobbing against his chest. "Ginny, you are awake!"

Ginny only response was to hang even more tightly at his chest, which slowly started to rake fiery tendrils of pain through his still injured kidney, and was still crying in what he hoped was relief. Cursing inwardly at having to deal with a crying girl in his situation, but overjoyed to see her awake and uninjured, Harry decided that he had to do something.

"Shh, Ginny", he whispered into her ear, while putting her arms around her. "Everything is alright, I am here, slightly scratched but here and I am not leaving again. Voldemort is gone forever, we are finally safe. It is only a matter of time until the remaining Death Eaters will be captured and then this nightmare will finally be completely over."

Harry was not sure if Ginny had even heard one of is words, because if only she seemed to cry harder. While wishing once again for a Girl-English dictionary, Harry decided for a more radical curse of action. With one of his hands, he gently forced Ginny's head up, till she was finally facing him. He could read disbelief, fear and a bit of hope in her eyes, apparently she was not sure whether he was real or not and was fearing to wake up from a dream every moment. Deciding to show her that he was very much real, Harry bent down and kissed her, not giving a damn that most of her family had in between entered the kitchen. After a few seconds of shock, she kissed him back and Harry felt a wave of almost unnatural giddiness flow over him. He was finally free to live his life like he had always wanted to, the girl he loved was awake and the megalomaniac dark wizard who had troubled him all his life was currently busy rotting in the remains of his fortress, could life really get any better?

A polite cough caused Harry to remember that there were other persons in the room as well. He and Ginny broke apart and Harry quickly scanned the faces of his pseudo family to find out how they reacted to his and Ginny's relationship. Bill and Charley had averted their eyes in disgust, Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley were beaming in delight, Fred and George looked as though Christmas had come early, which caused Harry to strongly suspect that he was about to receive serious teasing from the two of them, while Hermione and Ron, who had known about Ginny and him all along, were looking simply relieved to see him alive and well, though he thought he could see the ghost of a smile on Ron's face.

"Harry!" said Ginny, interrupting his examination with a barrage of questions. "Where have you been? Why did you not send word that you were alive? Oh, we were all so worried. What happened to Voldemort? Did you meet Snape? How did you…"

"Stop, please", replied Harry as another wave of pain washed over him. He had not realized how exhausted he was before; but now he hardly was able to keep his eyes open. "I am exhausted and in pain and while I would love to tell you what has happened to me, I am afraid it has to wait for another day."

This short statement was all it took for Mrs. Weasley to jump into full protective-mother-mode and after shortly scolding Ginny for putting him under so much stress, ordered her to take him up to bed, of course causing much sniggers from Fred and George and dark stares from Bill and Charley in the process.

"You will only put him to bed, will you Ginny?" asked Bill suspiciously, but before Ginny had any chance to explode at her oldest brother, Ron interrupted.

"Don't worry Bill, Harry over there is in no condition to seduce anyone or to get seduced", he said and in the process clapped Harry on the back. "Hey mate, great to see you alive, we already feared you had snuffed it this time."

"Don't get your hopes up Weasley, you don't get rid of me that easily" replied Harry gruffly. "I am too stubborn to die."

"You probably are", answered Ron laughing. "And you are at least a bit mental or you would not have chosen Ginny as a girlfriend, the only girl who is at least as stubborn as you are and of course a master of the infamous Bat-Bogey-Hex."

Fortunately for Ron, Ginny chose to ignore his last comment and instead focused on getting Harry to bed. Five minutes later, Harry found himself lying in the bed in Percy's old room, safely tucked under the blankets after drinking the restorative potion. The painkiller was finally kicking in and Harry felt the tiredness starting to overwhelm him.

"So you are back for good, aren't you?" asked Ginny, grinning at him like a Cheshire Cat.

"Yeah, and I am not going to leave again, ever", Harry managed to say before finally drifting off to sleep.

**The End**

final author's note: I am sorry at how long it took to finish this chapter, but I fell ill in the final week of my exams and only recently recovered enough to continue writing. For those of you who are wondering, yes there will be a sequel and I hope that you will enjoy that as well. Stay tuned, I will probably upload the first chapter in a week or so. So long, and thanks for all the reviews.


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